Thursday is the new Friday.  Actually, its kind-of the old Friday for me.  You see, every Saturday morning we get up early and run 12-22 miles.  So that means that if we want to go out and have a good time, it happens on Thursday night.  Especially when there’s more than one marathoner involved.  That’s why every 2-3 weeks we get together for a happy hour.  Tonight was no exception, and there was myself, my lovely wife, Thon, and a bunch of Thon’s old co-workers down on SoCo for First Thursday, having tacos at Guerro’s.

By the end of our meal, which we had decided to eat in the bar due to the 2.5 hour wait for a “real” table, we noticed that the crowd next to us was relatively well known.  I didn’t recognize most of them, but Quentin Tarantino is hard to mistake for anyone else.  Now, Guerro’s is pretty mercenary when it comes to bar tables, so as we started to leave they slid in and filled up the empty seats.  That’s why, for probably the last time ever, I found myself sitting across from Fiona Apple over a margarita.

Like I said, interesting happy hour.  And with 36 hours before our Mt. Bonnell ascent, there should be plenty of time to rehydrate.  And as a final bonus, we were able to share lots of pictures (food, drinks, reefer-madness-posters) with Carrie who couldn’t make it tonight, which I’m sure entertained her no end considering that she was short on sleep and, well, text messages are probably annoying.  Ah, well.  That’s what happens when you miss a happy hour…

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