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May 28, 2000

This morning I would be driving Pam to the doctor. She had been fighting a sore throat for the past few days and yesterday was even bedridden. She had all her papers and gave me the address for a couple of clinics that were open on Sunday.

The first one was in Greenlake; it was the closer of the two. The place was in somewhat of a questionable neighborhood. Actually, most of neighborhood is residential and didn't look particularly run down. The building, where the clinic was located, did look a little more run down than the remaining buildings. I know it is pretty stupid to judge the quality of the health care by the location and appearance of the building so watch carefully as I do it…

We skipped this clinic and went to the next, it wasn't because of the location or appearance of the building… it was because it lacked any obvious parking. I hate having to hunt for parking.

The second clinic was located in a retail district… SouthCenter to be precise. It was literally in the same shopping center as a furniture and a number of restaurants. Immediately next to a Cucina Cucina as a matter of fact. We went into the clinic and I watched as Pam filled out the paperwork.

I liked this clinic much better. You may think this is a stupid way to pick one clinic over the next, but you know… if that's the only distinguishing factor, it is as good as anything else.

It was much too long before Pam was able to go in and see a doctor (actually a PA, but who's counting) and it was considerably longer before she returned. I kept myself amused by reading two year old issues of PC Computing left in their waiting room. A bit amusing really.

Pam was still able to eat fine. Apparently her sore throat didn't affect her ability to shallow. We decided to go to Cucina Cucina. Lunch was good. We sat side by side the way we always do. Our waiter seemed to be in somewhat of a surly mood. I'm not sure why I got that impression I just did. I can't remember what Pam had for lunch, but I had the cardiac arrest special… the fettuccine Alfredo. I could almost feel my arteries harden.

We stopped at Talbot's on the way back… simply because we passed by it and it is her favorite store. No joke. I didn't even realize that it was there, but she noticed and pointed it out. I thought it would be nice gesture to stop. I was hoping it would lift her spirits.

Our next stop was the drugstore to fill her prescription. We went to a drugstore a few minutes from her place. It was her first time on their computer so she had to fill out a short form. It would take about twenty minutes to fill her perscription. We went to have coffee.

Now, I'm not a big coffee fan. I'll have it on occasion, but I'm not one of these people who walks around like some form of undead if I had missed my morning coffee. Moreover, the Seattle ritual of ordering coffee with way too many options really eludes me. I mean, it's cool like a treat. Imagine going out for ice cream… something like that. However, many of the local folks get these super customized coffee mutations (with options on how much coffee, chocolate, flavoring, warm or iced, and different types of milk) every day. Folks, this is like having an ice cream sundae every day. It's a little sad really.

The coffee place is right next door; it is a Tully's.

We went back to the drugstore to pick up… well the drugs. I think that's was all we had planned to get. Naturally, I took a quick glance at the toys. I noticed a set of Pikachu dog tags.

Now, let me set the record straight. I am not a Pokémon enthusiast. I have never even seen the cartoon. However, being fairly well versed in the world of toys, I realize that it is quite popular. I remember one day in Software Etc. wondering to myself which was the most popular of the characters, and the only dog tag missing from the bunch was the one for Pikachu. As a matter of fact, I was curious enough to look a couple of times and had never seen them… until today.

So what do I do with these dog tags now that I have managed to find them? It seemed a bit silly to keep looking for them and not getting them once I found them. Naturally, I bought them. I'm not going to sweat three dollars.

We went back to her place immediately after the drugstore where she took her first dose of her antibiotics. I stayed there a little while before I left. I had dinner plans that night; it's a tradition.



Tonight, being Sunday, was the day for Sunday Dinner with Len™. We didn't have any particular place in mind, of course, we're never that organized. I'm not sure why we don't really, but we generally don't think about it that far in advance. It occured to me that we're missing the entire complement of restaurants that require (encourage?) reservations. You know what? I don't care. Reservations make me feel like a snob anyway.

Tonight there was the Red Sox versus Yankees game. It would be Clemens versus Martinez… quite the match, in paper, and as it turns out, the game lived up to its expectations. It was scoreless into the middle innings, and Len decided to come to my place to watch the remainder of the game. It was heading into the ninth inning still scoreless. The idea of a scoreless extra-inning game had not occured to Len. The Red Sox manage to push across two runs against Clemens, after having two outs in the ninth. Martinez has a shaky ninth inning, but still manages to get through it unscathed. The final? Red Sox 2, Yankees 0. Way Cool!

We went to dinner immediately after the game. Len drove… the way he always does. At the beginning I was the one who drove simply because I was the one with a car. Once he got his car, he was doing the driving presumably to make up for all the driving I had done. Meanwhile, seven years later we still do this.

Boy, are we creatures of habit. Please, no nun jokes.

We went to CPK (a.k.a. California Pizza Kitchen). They have food. They have these dishes that are a little bit offbeat, which naturally appeals to me… because, you know, I'm strange.

I had the Tandoori chicken pizza and Len had the Phili cheesesteak pizza. I'm not making this up. We also had the chicken fried dumplings. They too are very good. Our waitress was a bit terse and perhaps even a little neglectful, but otherwise the entire dining experience was a good one.

Len and I talked about baseball… because it is important. The Red Sox are now holding a slight margin over the Yankees, who should dwindle into the Abyss… not that I'm bitter about the World Series. Not at all. We talked about the way the Braves have the best record in all of baseball. We both think that basketball is over-hyped and the postseason is lasting entirely too long.

I had to pick up a book for a game on Wednesday, so we wandered to the Barnes and Noble across the street and we [gulp!] walked there. It took little or no time to track down the book that I needed. I should've gotten it some time ago, I suppose it is a matter of laziness and the fact that everyone in the game has one and I can routinely borrow it without too many hassles. However, I finally broke down and I have yet another book… and am $25 poorer.

He drove me back after that. I did some more cleaning up from the Thanksgiving dinner. And yes, I'm still doing my dishes by hand. Dishwashers are evil.

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CopyrightMay 28, 2000


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