Jamie and I went to dinner at PJ Clarke's tonight and followed it up with a light dessert at Johnny Rockets across the street. Instead of sending a lightning bolt to indicate I should not eat any tasty treats, God let me figure it out myself. As Jamie and I took our seats, my foot caught on the bottom of the free-standing table and all the glassware went hurtling through the air, shattering all over the floor and the legs of the lone man sitting next to us. That's right, a full bottle of ketchup and a huge glass container of straws sort of dove off the table into oblivion... it all happened so fast - it couldn't be stopped! Evil middle schoolers laughed mockingly at my clumsiness, and we just laughed right back.
Did it stop us from consuming dessert? Nay. Nothing ever does.
City Dog Goes to Franklin, Tennessee
3 days ago
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