SHOWERS OF FUN

We had a singular aim for our trip last weekend---to TALK, to go out to a few fun restaurants, and to TALK some more. 

We’d been to lunch on Friday, as soon as we all threw our luggage into the rooms, stashed the Things in Dishes and the ham in the minuscule fridge, and freshened up from our travels.  That Friday lunch was at Forgotten Tastes, a delightful Pierogi place, recommended by someone on the recipe-and-restaurant site where Kim and I met.    Indeed, she’d sent out a blanket request for anyone in the Pittsburgh area to recommend their favorite places, and they didn’t miss, not once.

The restaurant was in a sizeable “strip” which made an immense square of Yogurt and Yoga, bookstore and bikes, and quite a few varied eating places.  This one could have been any order-at-the-front place, with bright pictures displayed in that neck-crick area above the counter, cheery folks to help you, and fresh flowers on the formica.

I was expecting a couple of Pierogies with my stuffed pepper, and a nice little serving of the cabbage-and-noodles, just like our neighbor Mrs. Kowalski used to make.   But these plates were GIGANTIC:

The others had Kielbasa and the noodles and several incarnations of cabbage, and the Pierogies, one with tangy, long-cooked Sauerkraut---just looking at it would make your tongue curl:  

We sat long at the little table, and were dismayed to have to leave so much food.   We had nowhere to stash go-boxes of such proportions, and ruefully scraped and stacked our plates as we left.   Next time, we’ll share just two plates, or maybe ONE.

We went back to our rooms, took a little break to unpack and wind down, then spent the entire afternoon talking and laughing---my friend Kim has the richest, most infectious laugh you ever enjoyed hearing.  And I cannot tell you the zany subjects and the funny stories and the magical way that being with some people seems to multiply everybody’s wit and humor exponentially, till we were on this roller-coaster of finishing each others’ sentences, and adding our own bit to the tale.

I provided a small floor show of my own, as well---kindly remember the word "floor" as we go along here.   We did all the gathering in our room---they were both bright and spacious, decorated in bright reds and stripes of Queen Anne’s lace, with a pretty little sofa and coffeetable on one end, and a stylish black desk-chair under the little dining-table-for-four snugged up BENEATH the computer desk. 

   They’d rolled over their own chair to provide the extra seat, and somewhere after a lotta conversation and laughing and the making of pitcher after pitcher of peach tea and pouring of Mountain Dew, I got up to re-fill my glass of tea for the umpteenth time.

I walked back to the group, intent on what someone was saying, and as I sat, the chair rolled, and so did I---for minutes, it seems.    You know how some things seem to go on forever, captured in all their freeze-frame embarrassment?  

I remember falling for the longest time, just going forward, forward, and reaching for the coffee table, for Mike’s knee somewhere ahead of me, for the arm of the sofa, and somehow I flipped on the way down to land on one knee, then all the way over onto the very point of my left shoulder.

Shouts of, “Catch her!” and “Are you OK?” punctuated this loony movie, as I finally landed.  I waved them off and got back up to my hands and knees to rise.     And THEN I felt the streams and sluices of tea falling down my face and dripping from my hair--I’d somehow managed to pour the entire contents of my tea glass over my head. 

The absurd posture and what I must look like set me off into this uncontrollable cackling ---if I’m not really hurt, I ALWAYS laugh when I fall down in public.

I could hear, “I just couldn’t get up in time to catch her!”  “I couldn’t move fast enough!”    And then I heard Mike say, “I was just wondering how the Russian judge would score that one.”    That set us all off, as I got to my feet and accepted a towel.  

Nothing broken, though the shoulder is still a little tender.  And I promise, there was NO alcohol involved, but I think we were all drunk from laughing.

Moire non of our wonderful adventures,