Well, I had a night of weakness, what can I say. MGK just does that to me. Yesterday was Saturday and we have it in our heads that we need to go to this place called Alamo Drafthouse. It's this really neat theater where you can watch a movie and order a full meal, complete with drinks of the alcoholic nature. We got online, did our research and decided to watch Stepbrothers and eat dinner. I know, I know. I'm cringing too at that choice of movie. But the only other one that was playing there that we would have wanted to see was the Dark Knight, and we had already seen that. Stepbrothers it was. John C. Reilly can really act, you know. He's won an Oscar. At any rate, the place is relatively close to our house, which is good, because usually it seems like all the fun stuff in our big city is far from where we live. We get there and it's crazy busy...then we realize it's Saturday and we understand. There are two long lines and we take our place in one of them and are just chatting away.
Let me preface this next part by explaining that I had already put myself in a bad position as far as my diet is concerned. I was so excited for this place that I went more than four hours without eating prior to it and I was famished. But, I was ready to eat dinner AND watch a movie at the same time, so I was doing the best I could to ignore the hunger pangs. Anyone who knows Mrs. K knows that she MUST EAT when she says she's hungry, or it's likely fists might fly. MGK knows that full well, not that I've ever punched him. He knows me well enough that by the third time I say in loud voice that I'm hungry, food must be found. I'm weird that way but I don't think I'll ever change.
We're standing in line and we both know that it's impossible for our movie to sell out, as it's Stepbrothers. I mean, come on. We're happy as larks until they post that our movie is sold out. Oh no. We decide to leave as there's nothing else playing that we want to see and I am brutally disappointed. Also, something seems to have told my stomach that it's going to have to wait a little longer to eat, so the hunger pangs are now hitting me full force.
Plan B: After having to hear much moaning from his wife, my husband gets us to Dave and Buster's. We quickly grab a table at the bar (I believe MGK would have fought for a table in the bar, as the wait for the restaurant was 40 minutes and my stomach did not have that kind of time) and sit down. We order drinks (for me, mojito and water and for MGK, Long Island). By this time, all pretense of diet has flown out the window. I have been without food for a while now, and I am HUNGRY. We order grilled chicken nachos with black beans and cheese for an appetizer and I kid you not, I hardly remember eating them. I seem to have inhaled them. Our dinner comes soon thereafter. I ordered chicken alfredo and MGK ordered some mini-Buffalo chicken sandwiches. Now, MGK can eat whatever he wants. I'm a firm believer in fattening him up, as he's a little on the lean side. That's just the way he is built. I however, can not. But last night, my blood sugar must have been so low that I thought I could eat whatever I want.
While my dinner was crazy unhealthy, I did only eat about half of it. Now, half was more than an appropriate portion, I can see that now. I learned a couple of lessons from that: don't let yourself get too hungry and for God's sake, lay off the alfredo sauce.
However, I had a wonderful time with my husband. We love each other so much it's silly. I loved chatting with him during dinner, laughing and planning. We're such schemers when we're together, it's just great. He helps me through this life, diet included. So, do I feel guilty about my night of eating shame? Only a little. Mostly, I just feel thankful for MGK.