Tuesday morning I took Sonya to the convention center and dropped her off. Her work is having a big thing there this week. She told me she'd be working late.

Before I left, though, I put on a crock pot full of beans - pinto beans, to be exact, with an onion and bacon for flavor. Mmmmm-mmm, man they smelled good when I got home.

So I get home and I'm in my underwear, changing into my dog walking/running clothes. The phone rings. It's Sonya, and she needs me to bring my portable radio to the convention center so she can play a CD for a fashion show.

So I walk the dog. Then I go back upstairs, grab the radio and go to the center. I meet Sonya and give her the radio and get a quick walk-through of the place. It was neat. She walked me out to the truck afterwards.

"Pick me up around seven-thirty or eight?" she asked.

I said sure.

I went back home and ran, then sat around with the dog for a little while, watching Trisha Yearwood sing the National Anthem. I'm such a soft touch when it comes to the Anthem...she was singing, the camera was showing shots of the ballplayers, some Navy jets flew over...by the time it was done I had tears rolling down my cheeks. Our country's just so damn good - baseball, country music and a strong military. How can you not be proud?

At seven thirty I leashed Roxy and went back to the convention center. I sat and surfed the radio. Roxy barked at everyone that came near the truck. And we sat...and we sat...and we sat...

Finally Sonya came out at about eight-thirty. She needed paper. The printer didn't have any. I went back home, dropped off the dog and got some paper. Went back to the center and sat around for another hour or so, watching Sonya jitter, type and snap at anyone that came too close.

I felt bad for her, 'cause she was obviously stressing out, and there wasn't anything I could do for her. I provided moral support, though. That's got to count for something.

Finally she got done typing her stuff and we went home. It was ten.

But the beans were very, very good.

Wednesday night I went to Sonya's Business After Hours party at the convention center. Ward and Kathy were there, as were Jen and James. Dr. Zarr and the Amazing Funkmonsters played. The Funkmonsters are a cover band that plays around town, but they're a big, important cover band. Management company, groovy lights, they've got it all. They dress up in huge wigs and play disco. It's a successful gimmick. And a persuasive one, too. It's really funny to see a bunch of white folks in business clothes doing the YMCA dance. Sonya wanted me to dance. I refused. Too much light, not enough alcohol.

Not that I don't usually dance. Take me to Amnesia or Newby's and I'm a dancin' fool. But in the middle of a brightly lit convention center? In Dockers and a sweater? I'm afraid it was physically impossible for me.

Last night I went running after I got home, then fixed pizza and a turkey sandwich for dinner. Actually Sonya just ate pizza, but the combination was really, really good.

Anyway, a few hours later I got kind of thirsty.

"I'm in the mood for a very large beer," I told Sonya.

"You're in luck, white boy!" she proclaimed.

So I sucked on my forty for a couple of hours. It was great. I took a nice sloshy beer buzz to bed. Speaking of drunkenness, Sonya has been threatening to tie one on tonight due to the tough week she's had. I'd be glad to facilitate her alcohol abuse; last week at the grocery store I got a bottle of lemon juice. We already have like three bottles of vodka. I got sugar, too. Lemondrop time!

The Lemondrop
Get a tall shot glass
Fill it halfway with vodka...
And halfway with lemon juice
Add a teaspoonful of sugar
Repeat
Repeat
Repeat
Laugh

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