Big Texas Road Trip Part One - The Lunch and the Launch
|Hello. My Name is Owen. Please pet me, please.
Maz picked me up at the airport in a Volvo SUV that had no CD player, so the hours we'd spent planning, buying, and burning Arabic, hip-hop, and banjo music were wasted. She'd booked the car online, but the location literally did not exist when she went to pick up her rental Friday night. She found a location that did exist, but which didn't have a vehicle for her to rent until the next morning. Maz is incredibly genuine as well as adorable - I'm sure her badassery worked in her favor as the morning rental agent gave her the best SUV on the lot for regular price.
We swung past the hotel long enough for me to check in at Hotel Indigo and then we hied to Arlington, looking for a restaurant with a patio so the dogs could join us. We found La Madeleine.
I should say right here that I've long been a fan of Hello My Name Is Owen. For starters, I think Owen is the best dog-name ever (until I get a dalmatian and name him Richard, which is on my bucket list.) Owen may also be the best dog ever; I could already tell by his photos how polite he is. I tried to get a My Name Is Owen-selfie but was not successful, mostly because sweet but crazy-eyed Sophie can't be still. She wrapped her leash around my chair twice. You know I loved it, and yes, I pulled Sophie's flooby ears.
I ordered the same amazing mushroom soup I always get at La Madeleine in Virginia. Asmath ordered chicken for the dogs; Sophie had to be mitigated to keep her out of Owen's bowl because he eats very politely. The server brought out refills for the dogs a few minutes later. Eventually, though, Sophie and Owen were relegated to the car so we humans could eat and talk in peace.
"Nah, he was pagal..." and I know that word. Crazy in Urdu, and apparently also in Hindi or Hyderabadi.
"Pagal?" queried Saba.
"Oh, YEAH, pagal." I chimed in, trying to remember how to say 'very' in Urdu - repeat it twice. Pagal pagal.
"So you are hiring, then," she asked without a question mark, but with a big smile.
"I'm taking applications." And we laughed like sisters who know things.
Later, away from her daughters, Saba also gave me maternal advice. She is right, of course. No, it's not your business. But next time I'm in the area, we are going to hit all the thrift stores. It'll be epic.
After the meal, which was probably High Tea due to content and scheduling, Maz and I went to take a nap before finding a pool hall - we couldn't wait to play pool horribly together. From her bed, Maz called Harwood Tavern to confirm they had a pool table and food; then we passed out.
I did my usual thing of perusing the menu and then bolloxing up their dish (yeah, I'm that guy) - but really, how hard can it be to serve me a sandwich without a bun? It isn't, and they did. The chicken was fantastic, and the day I go thrift store shopping with Saba will be the night I go back and have another sandwichless chicken sandwich at Harwood Tavern.
|Sandwichless Chicken Sandwich
|I think this was delicious Texas Poutine.
The pool table was smaller than I'm used to at The Cue Club - this seemed to favorably impact my game. Please enjoy these pictures of Maz and me looking like we know what we're doing. The one where I'm flipping off the cue ball is because that was the third consecutive time I sank it.
Maybe due to the weather, the tavern was not very busy. I gave the DJ a couple dollars to play an Arabic song that we couldn't hear from the CD I'd burned. Since I don't speak Arabic, I chose the wrong song title and it was boring. So later, while the DJ was eating, I slipped him a $10 and a napkin which read:
we appreciate your work - thank you. if at all possible, see if you can play any of the following of the following: Amr Diab, M.I.A., Maná, AdeleTurns out M.I.A. was in line with his style, and he gave us a couple, including Paper Planes. You recognise the Clash theme?
It was a busy day; we went to sleep early and fast. Waking up early didn't come off quite like we'd planned.
|Probably the second time I sank the cue ball
|Our rules: if you hit the ball you intended, it's still your turn.
|Lookit that CONCENTRATION! She did really well!
|...and there it goes, white ball into the center pocket. *&^%*$#@