My eye doctor sent me a $5 coffee card. I was planning on going back to him next year because 1. I didn't spend hours in his waiting room like I did last year's doctor, and 2. he's something of a hottie and wears suspenders. The $5 coffee card seals the deal.
We went to a new (who kows how long ago-new to us) Italian restaurant last night, Sub Rosa. It was remarkably bland. Wrigley liked her Marinara, but it was... bland. Ed and I shared the SubRosa, also...bland. We were happy to scratch the restaurant off our list until the server brought some yummy, melt in your mouth chocolate tuffles. We have since decided to try the pizza next time we go (hey, give us a little credit, it is hard to write off any restaurant that Wrigley likes).
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3 comments:
The phrase "sub rosa" always makes me smile, because of what happened when David had it on his resume. He had something about some work involving "lots of sub rosa digging around in the guts of the code" of something or other.
In those days, computer programmers were almost always hired through headhunters, who would take their resumes, translate them into that headhunter agency's format, and try to line them up with eager employers (when such beasts were not heading off to India instead).
So the headhunter redid his resume to refer to system administration experience, database experience, Unix experience, sub rosa experience... I wonder if anyone at the other end noticed and wondered what the hell THAT was supposed to mean!
So, if I wear suspenders and give you truffles, you'll come clean my house?
they'd have to be reaaaaalllly good truffles. (and spiffy suspenders too!)
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