I can't take her anywhere...

Here's your weekend update of all things Mike and Cindi. Friday night after work we went to Carson's for the usual. Ribs for me and a chicken salad for Cindi. Cindi was about to give her order when our waitress said, "Let me guess, chicken cobb salad- chicken on the side." I snickered and after she left Cindi said, "She's definitely getting a good tip for that." After dinner, we went to see Superbad which was extremely hilarious.

Saturday I watched MSU beat Bowling Green and Michigan lose to Oregon while Cindi was at school for a double session of class since there was no class last weekend. My stomach was upset most of the day and I ate two slices of Chicago-syle pizza for lunch. Nevertheless, Cindi and I had planned to go to Fogo de Chao after I picked her up from class. I dropped Cindi at the door and proceeded to find a parking spot. Normally, the service at the restaurant is second to none, so I was slightly perturbed when I got to my seat and had to wait several minutes before having my drink order taken. My mood definitely lightened when Cindi asked one of the servers for some bleu cheese dressing which, sadly, is not a standard part of their magnificent salad bar. The last time we were at Fogo was for my birthday in March, but the server also said that he remembered us and approximately where we were seated, no doubt from what I refer to as "the bleu cheese incident." Here is my recollection of the events as they happened:

Cindi (looking upset): I can't believe that they don't have bleu cheese at the salad bar anymore.
Mike: That's weird, I wonder why they took it off. We should have come here more often. I'll ask the server here what he can do.
Cindi: No that's okay don't worry about it.
Mike: Well what are you going to do with your salad then?
Cindi: I'll be okay. I'll just eat something later.
Server/Gaucho: Is everything ok here? Is there anything I can get for you?
Cindi: We're fine, thank you.
Mike: Yes, could you tell me why bleu cheese isn't offered at the salad bar anymore?
Server: I'm not sure, but I will ask the chef to make some up for you. (He leaves.)
Mike (getting upset): Why didn't you just tell him what you wanted? He can't read your mind, you know.
Cindi: I don't know. I just didn't want to be a pain.
Mike: Look, you paid $20 just for the salad bar. You should at least be able to get the kind of dressing you want for that kind of money.

I laughed heartily and teased Cindi after the server said that he remembered us. This was twice in two days. I guess that we are just really memorable. Cindi and I both enjoyed our meal and decided to head home since we were both stuffed and Cindi had some homework to do.

I got home and was feeling a bit restless, so I decided to call Sergio, who I haven't hung out with in a couple weeks. I got his voicemail, so I looked on the Chicago Reader to find out who was playing tonight and saw that one of my favorite singers, William Elliott Whitmore, just happened to be in town tonight to headline at The Note in Wicker Park. As I was online, Sergio called back and asked what I was doing tonight. I told him that I had planned to see a show at The Note and I heard Sergio talking to someone at his bar. He said, "Is it William...Elliott...Whitmore?" I asked him how he knew and he said that Val from our kickball team was going to the show. So I met them both at Whirlaway and we went to the show together. The show was excellent in spite of how hot and crowded it was in the club. The opening acts were both very good and then WEW came onstage. Several shots of whiskey were waiting for him and Val bought one and had people in front of us pass it up to him. He ran through a bunch of great songs and played for about an hour. Val and I had both seen him several times. Sergio hadn't, but was definitely impressed with his voice. After the show, we stayed up front to talk to Will because Val wanted to get a picture with him. I'm not sure why, but she asked him several times to get a picture but he declined. I ended up driving Sergio, Val and two people she had met back to Whirlaway.

Sergio and I decided against our better judgment to meet his friend who was mc-ing the karaoke night at a bar called Loafer's in Lincoln Square. When the closest thing that Sergio could get for a draft beer was a pitcher of Michelob, we should have known better. We both tried our best to swallow down that horrendous brew. We heard some even worse karaoke and decided to take off when one of the bar patron's was giving Sergio's friend a hard time for something or other.
We stopped at a 24 hour diner to get some food for carryout and Sergio apologized profusely for stopping there. I laughed it off and reminded him that we would have never heard the world's worst version of Living on a Prayer if we hadn't been there. We got our food and I dropped off Sergio, wolfed down my BLT with light mayo, and faceplanted into bed at about 3:30am.

Sunday wasn't as exciting. Cindi wasn't feeling well and Furio and I slept in until about 1pm. Watched some football and back episodes of Ice Road Truckers and went for a long walk.