Another Saturday Night

It was a lazy first day of June at Villa Wifey. Wifey spent a lot of time around the plant beds, and the dogs and I watched old movies together. We had tentative plans to meet D1 and Joey, but those got pushed back a day, so there seemed no reason to leave the house.

Wifey came in and showered, and we thought about doing our usual -- bringing in food for dinner, but I had just enough initiative to say "let's go out," and asked Wifey her preference. She said either Golden Rule or Black Point -- and after we got in the car and she was talking to bff Edna about Edna's upcoming visit to the 305, I picked Black Point.

It's only a 15 minute drive, and a true staycation spot -- the Ocean Grill, in the marina, makes you feel like you're in the Caribbean.  Plus, they have an all day special with my name on it: double Tito's, for $7.

We got seated right next to the water, I had my drink, and we watched a beautiful sunset next to the highest point in South Florida. Unfortunately -- the hill is not natural -- it's Mount Trashmore -- an enormous garbage pile -- but it's been buried long enough that there's no longer a foul smell, and it's grass covered and looks like it MIGHT be natural...

All of a sudden, several people were next to our table, snapping photos. I looked out and saw what looked like a small barge gliding through the water. But then I realized -- it was an enormous crocodile. The fellow next to me said it was 13 feet long, and lived around the marina, and was sighed about once per month.

I told Wifey crocs were far more aggressive than gators -- she recalled documentaries she saw in Africa where they pull water buffalo into the water and eat them.  I told Wifey we needed to take precautions -- we should switch seats so she was closest to the water. Ha.

The enormous beast glided so quietly -- past some folks fishing on a bank just 20 feet away. Apparently it gets plenty of food, and so isn't a threat to people, but just the same, Wifey and I made mental notes to refrain from walking around the waters of the marina...

We thought about waiting around for the live music, but that would be an hour into the future, so we left. I wazed directions to a surprise place, and we listened to the voice take us back to US 1 through a maze of Cutler Bay streets.

I don't usually crave dessert, and surely don't need it, but somehow surviving the encounter with the man eating croc, I felt emboldened.

Wifey peppered me with questions about where we were going -- she is VERY good at peppering -- but I made her wait until we arrived at Denny's -- the one where, in January of 1988, we met our guide for a hot air balloon ride we took in celebration of our first anniversary.

I had surprised her with that then, and now the surprise was more tame than a balloon ride -- it was to share a slice of Denny's pie, with coffee.

But guess what??? Denny's no longer has pie! I asked the nice young waitress when that unfortunate change occurred -- she laughed and said long before she had started there -- but she heard from the "old timers" on the staff that they used to have fresh pies.

Oh well. It's just another example of the decrease in the quality of modern life -- no pies at Denny's.

We shared, instead, some ice cream, and coffee. The bill was $8.05, and I handed the nice young server $15 and told her to keep the change. She was very happy and thankful. It wasn't HER fault that some bean counters at Denny's headquarters, probably in the Midwest, had seen fit to make life less grand for Denny's patrons throughout the nation.

No pie. Harrumph.

Still -- it was a lovely evening, and we arrived home to grateful puppies.

I made sure to explain to the dogs to keep away from any canals around South Miami Dade. Bo, especially, would be a mere small appetizer to that 13 foot behemoth.