We can turn damn near anything into a reason to party, even if it's only the two of us. I seem to remember going out to dinner at Bring Dollars, Home of Very Expensive Food Bistro and Bar one time to celebrate Ground Hog Day … So yesterday - Election Day - was no exception.
Even the day's start was fun as we have a new French teacher who Gets It that when a class is called French Conversation, that's what you do! Previous teachers have grounded us well in French history. My favorite story is one of a general who commandeered all of the taxis in Paris to take his men to the front line, but this is not the sort of thing that is going to pop up for discussion in today's France. Or at least, I don't think so.
Anyhow, class ends at 10 a.m. so we promptly hied ourselves off to vote. We were delighted and I was particularly gratified to see a full parking lot at our polling place and that we were numbers 10 and 11 in line to vote. For a conceited nanosecond, I imagined that many of them were readers here and acting accordingly to my diatribe on The Importance Of Voting. In real life, I doubt there was anyone there, aside from Richie, who does read me. Didn't matter; there were another 8 to 10 in line behind us. A friend, working this election told us that business there has been extremely good, starting with the poll's opening - at 7 a.m. - and hadn't slowed since then.
Even if we hadn't been there to vote, one of the workers was worth the wait. She was dressed in: very brief denim shorts with heavily frayed front pockets cut to show the red and white stripes on the pockets underneath them, a shirt of stars and stripes, a big white cowboy hat with a red/white and blue band and a pair of white cowboy boots with a 6 in. fringe around their tops. The only thing I could imagine was that she had gotten excused from her shift at the pole dancer emporium. Made standing in line semi-amusing speculating on former Miss Texas? Simply your average Southern California attention-seeker … or what?
Since our polling place is across the street from Las Brisas, when we got back in the car after voting I proposed treating him to lunch there. With alacrity he accepted. Since it was a beautiful day (the sun had finally come out) we elected to sit out on the patio, which at that time of day was shadowy with splotches of sunshine. The big plants sopped up traffic noise and we contentedly nibble on chips and salsas with an icy cold Pacifico.
It was so pleasant that after our food had been ordered and eaten, we ordered a second beer. It was just too pleasant to go rushing away home. Instead, we reminisced about previous elections, turnouts, and I remembered back in the day in New York or Missouri, that if you sported your "I Voted" sticky label, the bartender gave you a free drink for voting.
No more had to be said. We finished our beers and went straight to Suzy's, a live music-themed bar and grill that has rapidly become our go to spot. Few customers at noon - in fact, none except for us - but the barmaid and her husband the chef were good company.
Entertainment of a sort was provided by the Hermosa Beach Police rousting a homeless man who had been living (presumably) in the parking lot. They numbered four with a pick-up truck and two cop cars. Business had to have been slow in Hermosa Beach. The man was sitting on the curb at the base of a Big Lots sign. After more than an hour, he got up, they all talked some more and they took him away. Show over, we finished our beers and went home. Where we both had a nap. Mexican food is so filling
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