That's right, folks. You read that correctly. When granny is away from the home base, she goes wild.
Night one: LA with one Lindsey Fout. Shit was magical. My alias came out and yes, I was an Internist from Dartmouth. Drank gin gimlets, met many a fun folk, ate street tacos, and met a Hebrew Hammer look alike. By 4 am we were loading ourselves into the Subaru and were off to LAX. God bless my 8 hour flight so I could catch up on sleep.
Night two: Far more wild. H.Keane and I hit up Nawleans. Dueling pianos. Karaoke. Hurricanes, Long Island Iced Teas, and (blue) Greatful Deads. High heels were worn. Wormed my way into wearing the staff uniform at an Irish bar and met a black leprechaun. Was chaperoned by my AARP card-carrying boss until 2:30 am., when we encountered male strippers. At 4 am we crawled our way back to our rooms, got 45 minutes of shut eye, and then headed off to the airport once again.
Now in Denver; let's see what kind of shenanigans we can get into here...
Peace out, granny status. (But not really. I'm far too old for this shit.)