If you know me well, you know I’m cheap as hell. Target is always my first stop for clothes and shoes unless I’m at the sale rack at Macy’s armed with multiple coupons (you can also check out them here). I drive 45 minutes to the town I recently moved from in order to pay $15 for my haircut. The gray is easing its way in, only because I’m too cheap to cover it and begin a $150 per month coloring habit.
I don’t get massages, although they sound fabulous. In my entire lifetime, I can count on both hands the number of combined manicures, pedicures, and spa treatments I’ve ever had. And my lunch typically comes out of a cardboard box.
All that said, Friday night, I lived the life of luxury.
My beautiful friend turned 29 *ahem* and her husband pulled out the stops. A crew of us was picked up in a limo similar to those seen at Moonlight Limo. A bottle of champagne was popped, and we were transported to a fancy schmancy restaurant where we were friends of the owner, whom my friend’s husband knew from college.
We were taken care of by the assistant director of wine, whom had pre-selected six bottles of French wine for us – my glass was never empty the whole night. The chef greeted our table personally, wished my lovely friend a happy birthday, and made suggestions for us. We dined on a drop biscuit with apple butter for a starter that I devoured as if I hadn’t eaten in a week. I had the most delicious rainbow trout in the history of delicious fish (I’m a huge fish fan – the fishier the better as far as I’m concerned).
For dessert the table was served each of the available options which included a chocolate bombe, cheesecake with fresh whipped cream and dried fruit compote, and apple cider donuts that blew my mind. Then, just when the button on my “skinny jeans” (har, har) was about to pop off, they finished us off with individual dark chocolate brownies that were to die for. Yes, literally. I would die for these brownies. It would have all been worth it.
We piled back into the limo and were delivered back to our friend’s home where our children were all safely playing (I’ll mention here that the babysitter said she was leaving there and going directly to get her tubes tied), and visited even more with our friends and neighbors. When it was time to go – and trust me, no one wanted to – we thanked our hosts with hugs, and then my husband, the kiddo and I padded home the six minute walk from their house to ours. Sufficiently sated, we all crashed.
It was a night straight out of a fairy tale, full of hospitality and indulgence, spent with fabulous friends.
For this gal who lives a fairly economical existence, it was something special.