Since this is the month of love, I thought I’d share a little insider secret to a long and happy marriage. This piece in its longer form can also be found in Thirty Years, or Forever: the Story of Us.
Going out on a Friday night or any night of the weekend around here can be a daunting enterprise. I’m pretty sure every cowboy and his girl (and the dog(s)) drive in from the reaches of the Montana wilderness, wedging their pickup trucks in wherever they can find parking for a night on the town. Toss in a hefty number of college kids, and the wait is gonna be a while.
Mr. Wallace and I wised up after a couple decades and came up with a new game plan of Dodging the Rams and F-150’s. We call it “Lucky Thursday,” among other things.
“Are you feeling lucky tonight,” I ask with a dance step and a flirty wink.
Jamé stops mid-stride on whatever task he is completing and says, “Yes. Most definitely, yes.”
“Well, I say we go and see how our luck holds out.”
“Are we still talking about food and drinks?”
So, in the tradition of Sabbath lovemaking and outsmarting the locals, on the fourth day of the work week, I ask, “Are you feeling lucky tonight?” And no matter how exhausted he is or how hopeless the week has spun out to be, I have yet to hear an answer other than a glimmering affirmative.
Somehow Thursday comes round sooner than Friday nights, and we always feel like maybe we are pulling off something a little sneaky. We order happy hour drinks and sometimes get Ladies Night special if we’re having Mexican. And chances are we’re gonna get back for roll in the sack before the neighbors come home, or the housemates, the boomerang kids, or hell, whatever. It’s awesome.