We flitted down Katella to Quon's, where a madding crowd was falling over itself and where I'd once played quarters with George Fryer's wife. Barbara is a mean quarters player. Drink!
When we got to Quon's, someone was stinking up the stage, and Jimmy started to make a throwing-up face (or might have been actually throwing up) when I saw that the dude singing was a dude in a wheelchair. "You change your attitude right now!" I told my boyfriend, and he did. He's very good and bossable lately.
Holly Spears got up to sing Blondie's "Tide is High" in a warm, throaty rumble, and we all shook our heads in befuddled wonder. Holly is tall, gorgeous and can sing? And she's married to goofy old Lary? Whaaaa?
Then some chicks tried to swoop on our mens—chicks were swooping on Lary? Whaaaa?—and Holly and I had to fight 'em. But they had the good sense to have already disappeared, and then Lary sat on some girl's lap while she was minding her own business out by the fire, and neither the girl nor Holly were amused, but I was, kind of. That happens a lot.
* * *
Sunday's Opening Day withYour World Champion Anaheim Angels!was kind of bad, as World Series MVP Troy Glaus dropped the ball a couple of times like he was fumbly Barry Bonds, and John Lackey pitched like a regular community college pitcher instead of a World Series ring-wearing community college pitcher. Still, it's fun to be on the bandwagon.
A few rows ahead of us, three preening misses vamped through the game, while behind us, a couple bickered good-naturedly, the husband taunting his long-suffering Angels-fan wife by gloating about the Rangers' A-Rod and, oh, the fact that the Rangers won.(Final score: 6-3.) It was a little demoralizing, but at least Rafael Palmeiro, the Rangers' resident Viagra pitchman, was batting .000 and never able to get it up.