Wednesday, January 6, 2010

The curious case of the weird table skin

One night, while in Mexico, GeekBoy and I opted to have a romantic dinner for 2 on the beach. I say romantic because I have a way of sometimes sucking the romance out of stuff we do.

Case in point: our romantic dinner on the beach.

It started out OK, with a nice flaming path to our dining tent on the sand.

Here's GeekBoy, looking all dapper.
If you look at the sheer fabric fastened to the tent poles, you can see it fluttering around, as if bandied about by a gentle sea breeze. In reality - we had hurricane force winds and we were barely able to keep the food on our plates or hear each other talk.

That's not where the romantic part starts to break down, though.

Wait for it.

And here, we have us. I have a white knuckle death-grip on my chair to keep from being blown into the tent down the beach from ours. But, isn't the table kind of cool-looking? With that light inside it?
I thought so. (And here is where it morphs from romant-ic to com-ic)
I really liked the table.

I couldn't help it. It was wearing this kind of, I don't know, full table condom stretchy skin -thing.

I was completely unable to keep my hands off of it. Pressing and poking and tugging at it like a 4 year old, throughout the entire meal. It was SO cool. And kind of SEX-ay, if you must know.

GeekBoy soon tired of my antics with the table condom:
And ordered me to pay attention to my dinner. Before it blew away and gained a side of sand.

Not all of the romance was lost, however, we did finish with a very romantically themed dessert:
But if anyone knows where I can get one of those table condom things, PLEASE tell me! I'm kind of jonesing over here.

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