date night

gift card to nice Del Mar restaurant. Saturday night. grandma babysits girls. Mr. Curry works all Saturday, gets home 6-ish, showers and takes photo with me before we leave to drop Ian off and head out into the night

listening to Sublime in the truck

we arrive at the nice Del Mar restaurant to find middle aged drunken woman straddling the life sized bull at the doorway, her friend taking a photo as she whoops and bobs side to side. we side step them and enter into an alter world where all the men wear dress shoes and all the women have earrings. many older, geeky men with belted jeans escorting younger, platinum blondes with fake breasts and fish lips teetering on pointed heels. we order drinks ( champagne, brut, for me, and jack and coke for him ) and discuss how men who cannot have sex with women and spend inordinate amounts of time during their twenties watching porn and engaging in fantasies end up rich and then their idea of what 'sexy' or 'hot' women is becomes the strived after ideal in the circles of women who desire to marry rich men, thereby producing an entire social ecosystem of rich men holding hands with fake breasted blondes with very nice teeth. 

Mr. Curry heads to the restroom where, he says, it is so dark ( 'ambiance' ) he almost can't find the toilet. the music is so loud we have to half shout to have detailed conversation about the sexual proclivities of various people, yet i have no fear of being déclassé due to the aggressive f bomb dropping and wild gesticulations of the two drunken women at the table next to us. i tell Mr. Curry it is my opinion that at our age ( i am 39, he is 38 ) a common problem in marriages is the woman's desire to simply be properly and semi-regularly fucked ( he and i have the same understanding of what that is ) while the man is becoming lazy in bed, or perhaps falling prey to his particular desires such as having one nipple pinched while the woman gives him a blow job, so that the woman begins to wonder if this is all there is just as the man begins to feel that he can get just what he wants. i think mismatched sexual libidos or desires is a top three problem in a marriage's endurance. 

as this conversation goes on the restaurant grows progressively louder as the crowd- mostly 30 and 40 somethings, some 20 somethings, no children or even teens- grows progressively drunker. the waiters all have very good hair and nice skin.

our food arrives and is outrageously good. the meats are divine, the 'infusions' are flavor soaked, and the duck fat french fries send Mr. Curry to heaven- the best french fries he's ever had, he says. dessert is a Smore like combination of things with an expresso that is divine. we talked about the past and laughed and ate and laughed. we talk about the Starbucks barista who has an adorable crush on me and Mr. Curry expresses that he find this guy very douchey,  and while he does not normally mind crushes on me, minds this one. this barista once told me, with a dreamy look ( in front of my kids, who noticed ) that i was 'amazing'. now if you can find a way to tell a coffee customer that they are amazing that doesn't sound a little odd, you are smoother than this guy. half drunk, i asked Mr. Curry if he had a crush on anyone in his work office and he got a little serious. i am very possessive in my own intense Scorpio way and he did not want  his half drunk wife ruining our evening by turning a 'joke' into a suddenly emotional and ridiculous conversation about made up worries or jealousies. alcohol: score one for you. i agreed and we changed the subject to how really depressing it was that we could not go home and have sex, instead having to pick up the baby from Grandmas. Mr. Curry only drank half his jack and coke since he was driving and tired. 

we left, picked up Ever, came home and fell asleep all three together.

it was as good as it gets, with toddler and without sex.

sniff.

still, pretty damn good. and there's always tonight. :)