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Courtney and I ate at the El Loro last night. As Court pointed out, El Loro will be “that place” we drag our kids to. The food and staff are great.

We were the first seated in an area near the front of the restaurant. We ordered our food and were enjoying our chips when two women were seated in the booth next to us. “We don’t want to sit by them,” one of the ladies said. I glanced her way to make sure she wasn’t talking about us. I looked over my shoulder. No one else was in the area. I concluded that, yes, she was talking about us.

“I hate sitting next to people. We’re going to be loud,” she told the waiter. They sat two booths away. I found her comments odd and a tad rude. After sitting down the two young women discussed, loudly, the appropriate size of margaritas to order. They determined the 60oz was too large and settled for the smaller 36oz mugs. The girl was right, they were going to be loud.

For the rest of our time there I couldn’t hear them much. As the restauant started to fill up other couples and families were seated around them. I considered it pennance for their demands.

I’m taking a sushi cooking class tonight. Cooking is probably the wrong word for it. More like “preparing” sushi, I gather. I cautiously starting eating sushi again after the incident earlier this year. As long as I stay away from the yellow tail I seem to be fine.

I remember the first time I ever watched someone eat sushi. It was my second tech job and I was sitting in the lunch room with my new boss. Steve came in with what I know now is a take-out platter of sushi from Lund’s. I remember thinking how swank and hip it was to be working at a dotcom eating sushi. I hoped one day to be that trendy.

Courtney and I got back on Sunday from a Carribean cruise which took us to San Juan, St. Kitts, St. Barts, St. Maartan, and St. Thomas. I won’t bore you with the drunken details. No one likes to hear stories of drunken debauchery. But I will tell you about the sushi incident.

Since I hadn’t yet figured out that sushi does not agree with me I decided to eat some yellow tail in San Juan the night before we boarded the cruise ship. An hour after I ingested the roll I was back in the hotel room dying. I wasn’t sure how the sushi was going to re-manifest itself. I did know that it felt like it was tearing apart my guts trying to get out. I ended up spending most of the evening in the bathroom on the floor. It took me to noon the next day to realize that I had the same reaction to yellow tail in Minneapolis a week before. Why must I be damned to only eat cheap lousy sushi from Lund’s?!

Incidently, I had to look up how to spell debauchery and found it’s dictionary definition interesting:

1.Extreme indulgence in sensual pleasures; dissipation.

If you are wondering about pictures, they’ll be up soon. I want to wait until I have my new web server up and running first.

Courtney and I celebrated our second anniversary last night by jaunting into Uptown. We started at Sushi Tango for some great sushi. I’m not quite sure what constitutes great sushi. But I figure it has to be good if you can’t tell it raw fish. After having some stiff cocktails with our raw fish we headed over to Zeno, or is it Xeno? I can’t remember. It was a really odd coffee/dessert/sandwich shop where we had to be served and seated to order a coffee. We joked, laughed and plain out enjoyed each other’s company for the entire evening. Rarely do we take the time to reflect on where we’ve been and also understand each other. It was a great night and it reminded me why I fell in love with her nine years ago.

Then later on I spent most of the night popping Pepto pills to combat the onslaught of stomach churning acid making it’s way through my lower intestines.

I have never claimed to be a great cook, but I must say that *I* think I’m the best cook around. Courtney may have a different opinion. I can make a pan full of Manwich like no one else. As long as I have my garlic powder, chili powder, and red onion, I can turn any dinner into a 4-course stink fest that will stay with you for days. The dogs seem to like my cooking as well.

UPDATE: Just like I suspected, Courtney came home and warmed up some of my infamous Manwich. As she cracked the lid to the meaty goodness she hooted, “Jeez! Did you use a little garlic?”