
After work and trooping to the PO box to pick up mail, the SO and I dashed to the RNA Showgrounds for Oktoberfest - beer, pretzels, cheesy music and apple strudel. And not necessarily in that order.





Our bar wench was unfortunately run off her feet with our tables. Our demand for beer is a bottom-less pit! (^_^)
Except for me. Save the free stein, free champers and a few sips from the SO's stein, I didn't order any additional beer. Instead I opted for this:

A flashy plastic martini glass and refills of daquiris from the mobile outside. Yummy flashy lights. (^0^)/

We boogied to silly cheesy songs and basically monkeyed around. Except one of the private tables had older ladies (think 50s-60s) who were groping each other's tits. (x___x)
And no one groped mine, thanks. My boobs are mine. I don't share.

My creepers for dancing and trooping around in comfort - and walking home without blisters or sore feet. I love them so much and wanna get a pair in red.
As we walked through the Valley on the way home, some hobo asked the SO for change.
Hobo: "Got some change?"
The SO: "No."
Hobo: "Then how do you pay for her?" [pointing to me]
The SO: "Oi, she's my fucking wife, fuck off."
I am more expensive than pocket change, yo.
People photos from the day are on this Facebook album.