Thursday, my lovelies, was another interesting one.
I waltzed into the office donning one of my new dresses - this one was solid chocolate brown, no cleavage popping, interesting sleeves - and crossed the threshold into the conference room as Super Dad was exiting. Upon seeing me, the man literally stopped and I thought his eyes just might explode. As I continued on to my table, he stood in the doorway asking if that was one of the dresses he bought me.
You see, sometime during the life-sucking vampire project, I started telling Super Dad that he owed me a dress when I made a major milestone or pulled off some incredible miracle. If I bought a dress over the weekend, when I wore it to work, I tell him, "You bought this for me." Of course, no money has ever changed hands but it is our on-going joke. In fact, the entire team is a part of it now. One man is my official dress accountant and he even recently wrote up the dress promissory note for Super Dad and me.
Super Dad and I had a f*cking fantastic meeting with executive management that afternoon. Late Wednesday night I had a brilliant idea of how to display our progress of the life-sucking vampire project that excited me to no end. The brass loved it! And I felt wicked awesome. Amazing things are happening!
Both Super Dad and I were on a huge high. Early evening back at the office, Super Dad inquires about my evening plans because he said we needed to work late for the big boss man. I had planned on meeting Edina and a few friends for dinner but told Super Dad I would cancel as the new big boss man hasn't been happy the progress we've been making until this afternoon. Paying my mortgage and staying in Austin take precedence some days.
I explained to Edina I had to work late due to higher powers. About 6:30 PM is when the dimly glowing light bulb should have went off over my head, but alas, oblivious, thy name is Patsy. Super Dad tells me to pack up as we need to head to the north office. While odd, I complied as I am not privy to all the big decisions.
We jump into Super Dad's rental, which we affectionately called 'The Bat Mobile' as this week was a black Chevy Cobalt. Heading north Super Dad receives a few calls that he places on speaker for me to overhear as if to be sharing more and more of his personal life. It is when we pass the exit that the light switch is flipped to the on position.
Super Dad proceeds to inform me that he is whisking me away to have dinner with our mutual co-worker/friend out on her ranch outside of town. I was speechless. He handed me the scribbled directions and told me to be on the lookout for a liquor store to pick up wine.
En route we made a quick vino stop at the local grocery store. At the wine aisle, Super Dad told me to work my magic. Exiting the grocery, he stated in jest, "Here again we are going off alone." But I think it was only partly in jest.
We arrived at Horse Ranchers without calling for directions. Due to my recent trip home, I now know what a preggo horse looks like and was able to know there were two on the ranch. Super Dad was skittish around the horses, but the horses were very friendly and I spent time with them. Later I took a ride around a small portion of the property with the Mr. Horse, who was intoxicated and that mixed with gravel roads meant I wore more of my vodka martini than I consumed. It was still a wonderful night. Mrs. Horse and I had a wicked time teasing Super Dad. You see, Mrs. Horse and Super Dad have known each other over 30 years because they started working for the company at the same time. Together, she and I leave that poor man squirming and begging for mercy. While he does protest, Super Dad thoroughly enjoys it.
In the dark, in the middle of nowhere, my sense of direction got us back to the highway. Our conversation home was about life over the years on this larger programme. Super Dad dropped me at my car and as it is awkward, I told him thank you and headed to my car. That thin blue line remains a bit difficult for me to maneuver.