Don’t give me candlelight, or violin
I prefer the interior light of a station wagon.
Don’t try to impress me with a reserved table for two
I’m more at home with a bottle of sarsaparilla and good Bar-B-Q.
Don’t shower me in rose petals, or wrap me in silk
I’d rather curl up with a good book and a cup o’ tea with sugar & milk.
Don’t offer me escargot or anything quite so fancy
I’m a simple gal, try and feed me frog legs and I’m likely to scream like a banshee.
Don’t get me wrong, I think you’re real sweet and all
I would just rather watch a train go by than stare at a Pissarro or Warhol.
Don’t worry; I’m sure you’ll be just fine
I doubt very much it will take you long to find a more fashionable lady for which to dine.
The Not So Fantastic Reality:
The above story was inspired by the following tidbits I encountered today:
ONE: I try, I really do… to like the so-called ‘finer things’ of life. Good wine, expensive food, name brand clothes, those things are all well and good, but when it comes right down to it, I really could care less about most of it. Yes, treating yourself once in a while is fun and I totally indulge from time to time, but I’m just as happy under my raggedy great-grandma’s quilt reading a secondhand book with a cup of tea. That’s why it came as no surprise that one of the best and most enjoyable dinners I’ve had in some time was in Andy’s car as we waited for a stuck train to be moved off the tracks. We had run out to get some takeout BBQ and as happens more often than not, we got held up by a train on the way back home. Both of us were pretty hungry and after a few minutes of not moving, we decided to dig in. Turning on the interior light, we shared a delicious meal of ribs, pulled pork, mac n’ cheese, a bottle of Sarsaparilla and I even took a few bites of my giant red velvet cupcake. I noticed people giving us ‘the look’ as I gnawed on a bone, but I’m chalking it up to jealousy.
Love & Squirrels.