This Ain't No Chuck E. Cheese

What lousy timing with that Guest Editor business. It was published Friday and I left town that very day, depriving me of enjoying the adulation I so fully deserve.

But we needed the time away. It was our first vacation of any kind since '06 and our first trip sans kids since '05.

Still, I had plans of saving some $ and spending Friday night at home, albeit a home gloriously empty of children. But after devoting half an hour to cleaning the mess the water caused the night before, we said 'see ya!' and headed out the door.

First stop: an average Mexican restaurant in Cudahy, where the only thing of note was the disgusting tongue-action between a homely 50-ish couple in the booth behind us.

[Note: aside from the fact that they sat on the same side of the booth, routinely traded tongues, and had their hands (shiver) disappear beneath the table quite a bit, may I just say to the gentleman, should he be reading this:

Your waist is not located on a plane even with your nipples. Wear your pants below your chest. Trust me. There is a middle ground between my plumber's crack and your . . whatever that was.

The world thanks you in advance for your co-operation.]

Then it was on to At Random, a south-side bar that Lisa's been trying to get me to visit for ages.

It's been in business for more than 40 years in a converted South-side home. Their menu proudly advertises that they don't serve beer or wine. So what do they have? Pretty much anything else on earth.

Aside from the drinks, the place is famous for its decor. It's very dark in there, even by tavern standards, and much of what illumination there is comes from fiber optic Christmas trees scattered about. Mid-century jazz plays over the loudspeaker, and our waitress was easily seventy or older.

It's not intentionally kitschy you understand, they just haven't found a need to change in 40 years.

The owner is a big, gruff guy that Lisa warned me was 'intimidating'. I guess I can see that, but he was just fine with us. Not so the case with some college age couples who wanted to change booths - oh the looks he gave them! They're very finicky about who gets in and where they sit.

[True story: once upon a time Lisa went to At Random with a bachlorette party and they were refused seats.

"But it's my bachlorette party," Lisa's friend said.

Nothing.

"There's a whole couch that would fit us," she said, referring to a wrap-around in one of the rooms.

Blank.

"We could sit at different tables," she pleaded. By this point she was crying, with tears just streaming down her face.

His final, unequivocal answer, said with a snarl and a trace of contempt: "This ain't no Chuck E. Cheese. This place is for couples. Get out."]

Lisa ordered a mint drink that tasted like a Girl Scout Thin Mint cookie, and I settled on a delicious concoction made of Irish Cream, Vodka, and Oreos - three of the best things on earth - mixed with ice cream.

It was grand, but they taste so much like harmless confections that you drink the whole thing before BOOM! the booze hits you blindside.

From there it was on to a local hotel where we spent the night. Aside from everything else that was great about the hotel, Lisa found herself entranced by Peter Jackson's King Kong, something she'd never, ever have rented or watched at home.

In the morning it was off to Fort Atkinson.