How Did I Get Here?

Sunday

I feel like I totally took advantage of a good friend tonight.

You see, we got to watch our friends’ two puggles this weekend while they went skiing in Colorado and also watched the cute little guys (the puggles, not the friends…. not that they aren’t cute too… never mind) the weekend I had the LA Marathon (OK, the kids watched them most of that weekend but we had them most of the week prior. Happy? Can I continue?)

Our friends were so grateful that they wanted to take us out to dinner. Anywhere.

Now if you have been reading, I have been on a training hiatus coupled with an eating free-for-all and sleeping orgy this past week. So a free offer for a dinner was the last hurrah for the fat train.

Where to eat….

They said anywhere and she meant it. I mean, her Italian took over and she really wanted to treat us with whatever we wanted.

Years ago, I would make the drive from 29 Palms to San Diego and Pendleton on a regular basis and every time I did, I would see this massive billboard out in the open desert. It was an advertisement for a steak restaurant and it always caught my eye for a couple of reasons.

First, it was friggin’ ginormous.

Second, it had a portrait of the owner and his wife who were both around a thousand years old. It looked like an old cheesy 1970s Olan Mills portrait of your Midwestern grandparents.

Third, the name of the steak house was “LG’s” which is not only the initials of my own grandfather but is also, to our family, synonymous with the putzy set-in-his-ways personality of said grandfather.

In fact, when my brother or I pull a putz move, all we have to say is “LG” and the other knows. The conversation thread is over and he is then “owned” by the other.

Back to the present, I never actually tried this steakhouse although I always thought that since the couple looked like the most stereotypical Midwestern couple, they must make a mean steak.

So when the opportunity arose today, well, off to LG’s we went.

So now I’m in the middle of that social situation where a friend has offered to pay but the prices are astronomical. Naturally, I go for the T-bone for a mere $36 and that’s only the steak. At this place, you have to order EVERYTHING separately; nothing comes with the steak but the price tag.

Hey, I abstained from ordering the 4-lb monster side-o-beef that was like $60 so give me some credit there.

When the steak came, I have to admit that it was a thing of beauty although I had to defend my choice of ordering it well as opposed to the blood pouring out of it that, for some reason, people want us “cook my damn steak” people to order.

Don’t even get me started on catsup. I eat catsup with my steak. Period. It’s not a statement about the relative quality of the meat, I just eat catsup with my steak, OK? Wait, never mind, I don’t care if it’s OK, that’s how I eat it and that’s that.

I had steak, I had fries, I had mashed potatoes, I had salad, I had beer …. ah, I was going out with style, knowing that tomorrow, it’s back to training, back to dieting, back to feeling like I gained 50 pounds in a week. But for now, I ate like a king.

A big fat glutinous king.

Going around the table, there was Marisa and her husband Shawn. Then there was Carrie and my two kids, Alex and Stephanie so for you math-challenged, that makes 6 people all ordering about 50 bones worth of food plus drinks and tip, well, I didn’t see the bill but I have to assume it was a hefty little piece of work.

So much for them saving money by having friends watch their puppies. But then it was pointed out to me that having someone watching your puppies that you know are crazy about them and that will treat them with care and love is much more valuable than a steak dinner. The alternative is kenneling which, if you have ever had a dog, although not optimal is many times the only alternative.

After dinner we walked the city back to our friends’ apartment where we visited a little more. We didn’t stay long because Marisa is pregnant and I felt pretty much the same after cramming pounds of steak down my throat.

I shouldn’t have to justify that last statement but I know my audience. Why does it ALWAYS have to come to that?

(sigh). I’m out.

Free Advice for Today: “Never waste an opportunity to tell good employees how much they mean to the company.”