Monday, April 18, 2005

The Wienerschnitzel of Fish and Chips

Let me start by saying that I had a truly fabulous weekend. There was sushi and roasted marshmallows with hugs, then there was sunny and cuddly Meera, and finally a lazy Sunday nap, followed by the impetus to see The Hunt for Red October.

After what was probably the most circular bus trip ever, Meera arrived on Saturday to what I like to call a sunroof afternoon. After waking up Ben, we toured the important parts of New Haven: Romeo and Joe's, my lab, Broadway (which, unbelievably, has no pajamas for sale), and Wentworth's. There is no ice cream that compares to Wentworth's, partially because it is eaten outside in the sun.

Saturday night had potential. It really did. There was a dance we could have gone to, and I was tempted to take Meera, since she had fun last time, but Ben (smartly) vetoed the idea. I think he wanted to go out and paint the town red, but it just wasn't in the cards.

We picked up a Steph and headed down to West Haven (or at least, in that general direction) to Ben's favorite fish and chips shack... which was closed. So we went to Ben's second favorite fish and chips shack, which had all the hometown charm of Wienerschnitzel, and mostly the same decor and menu as well. The three of them opted for the fish and chips, while I (being against potatoes) chose the fish sandwich.

I'm sorry. The fish was gross. It was too breaded, too flaky, and too tasteless. We had to smother it in tartar sauce that had slightly more taste. Ben's fries were so hot that they melted a hole in his styrofoam plate. And when we couldn't eat any more, he suggested we take the leftovers home.

We mixed some drinks at my house, and sat down to rest a bit before going out to meet Ben's beau. The chosen entertainment was Harold and Kumar go to White Castle and it struck me that we were supposed to be stoned while watching this movie. Unfortunately(?) we weren't, and so most of us fell asleep. (It WAS very funny, but you have to understand how much energy is drained by walking around in the sun and eating bad fish. We really had no chance.)

In the middle of the movie, Ben got a phone call and claimed, "Ok, we'll be over in a little bit." An hour later (about 10:45pm--we are not in college anymore, folks), Ben woke us up and asked if we wanted to go see his beau (whose name I am avoiding simply because I don't know if it's spelled with a k or an h). I whimpered. Meera whimpered, then agreed to go, if the boy wanted us to go, but she tacitly implied that maybe meeting over breakfast would be preferable. Luckily for us, when Ben called him back, he was asleep and an early breakfast was agreed upon. Steph and Ben went home, and Meera and I fell asleep after a long and meaningful conversation, the unrepeatable kind that can only be held during sleepovers when the lights are out and you're about to fall asleep.

That sounded dirty, but it's not. It's really the backbone of sleepovers, and why they're so fun. That's why girls have sleepover parties. There. I've let the cat out of the bag.

Sunday morning, bright and early, Meera and I woke with a phone call from Ben, who brought the boy and took us to the Pantry for strawberries and coffee. And there were some pancakes or waffles or french toast with the strawberries. But it was mostly strawberries. Yay Pantry. Meera needed that energy to gear up for her return trip on the bus. We loaded her with hugs and set her on her way. I expect the next time we (at least I) see her, she'll be getting married. How sappy.

1 comment:

  1. Next time we'll paint the town fuschia.

    Like my new hair.

    (I put pink streaks in the front of it tonight, for fun. I feel a bit like I'm seventeen, but that's ok.)