Surprise, Surprise.

I had designs to show Wife a good time at one of the nicer restaurants in town. We had spent the better part of the last two weeks merely sleeping next to one another. I haven't seen her awake in quite a while. So when Wife hit a professional milestone at work and my weekend schedule opened up, it seemed like the perfect time to enjoy the finer foods in life. As it turned out, Wife had other plans. She insisted on going to Aubree's, the pizza joint/sports bar. Not crappy at all, but when you're taking your wife out to dinner - a fancy, schmancy, celebrate something dinner - you usually don't expect to take her to a pizza joint/sports bar. Then she drops the real bomb: she's got some friends meeting us there.

Now would be a good time to mention we don't "swing." The idea of a romantic dinner with friends is lost on me. So I expressed my reservations eloquently through a series of frustrated sighs. I think she purposely ignored them.

At this point, the only saving grace of the night was that since we were going to a pizza joint/sports bar I would be able to see game one of the ALCS (Tigers v. Rangers). I figured I should just take what I can get at this point.

So Wife dragged me in to Aubree's and revealed her friend(s) already had a table way in the back. In the dark. Far away from the pretty TVs showing America's Pastime. She drags me into the back lounge and I'm just about to inform her of her egregious offenses to our romantic evening when the lights come on and everyone else yells "SURPRISE!"

Totally got me.