We sat out by the pool for a little while, where we witnessed a couple of bratty teenagers, a lady who had no business in a two-piece, and very large man intentionally and repeatedly diving into the pool in view of the "No Diving" sign. People.
I had my laptop out and worked on my Friday blog entry as much as I could until I didn't want to deal any more with not hardly being able to see my monitor due to how bright it was out there.
A quick check on Facebook revealed that a friend of mine, Jenni Harris, who lives in Wilmington was volunteering at the Artrageous Festival & Artwalk at Lumina Station, and we ran over there to see her and potentially have lunch. We had a quick hello, but didn't really see anything we wanted for lunch in the area, so we left as huge, black storm clouds made their way in.
We ended up having lunch at our favorite place to eat when we make a weekend run to Wilmington, Elizabeth's, and we ordered enough to have leftovers for dinner and/or an after-bar snack later this evening.
There's a classic line in the movie Sordid Lives, that you somewhat have to hear to get the full effect of, but it's said when one of the characters is talking about her attire, including her wig, saying, "If you can call a wig attire," which is funny when said, because it can sound like, "If you can call a wig a tire."
Well, Joe blurted out a line with a similar quality when he was stepping out of the hotel room for a second and asked if I minded if he left the door ajar with the dead bolt. He said, "That is if you can call a door ajar," which of course came out sounding like, "If you can call a door a jar."
Maybe you had to be there for that to be humorous, but to me, what's funny about it is the play-on-words aspect.
We returned to the Tool Box tonight, where there was more of a crowd tonight. I liked this sign hanging on one of the walls (sorry about the glare):
I wasn't overly into it tonight, but I did enjoy watching a few videos there, giving me a chance to catch up on some pop culture, for example Bad Romance and California Gurls.
I spoke for a few minutes with a guy named Alan, who we know just from running into him often when we're in Wilmington. It appears that he has some sort of interest in the bar—not sure if it's monetary, a partnership, or just interested in seeing it succeed—and I asked him if they ever play any country music videos, noting that I line-dance and two-step up at Flex, where I know he's been.
He said that they do and then got all excited when I said, "It might be fun to come down here and line-dance and two-step some time." He really went off and running with the idea, getting all excited at the possibility. However, the owner of the bar, who is also his roommate, seemed to think it was an okay idea, but didn't get anywhere near as excited about the possibility—if his reaction was an indication.
Back at the hotel, we ate the hell out of our Stromboli and pizza leftovers, and then got into one of the most absolute giggle-fits that had our sides hurting, and about which we just couldn't stop laughing for the longest time.
It all started when I was singing the line from James Taylor's song "Don't Let Me Be Lonely Tonight" that says, "Say goodbye and say hello..." but I instead I sang "Say goodbye and say, heller..." which for some reason just sent us into hysterics. (The word "heller" for "hello" and said a certain way is an allusion to routines by Shirley Q Liquor, a character whose whole shtick is controversial for its arguable racism, and about which I'm quite ambivalent myself.)