I'll come up with something in a minute.

Unpaid Endorsement.

If you ever find yourself in the Caesars in Windsor, may I suggest slipping upstairs and going to Augustus Café? That was nice.

We went there today. (HEY! There’s a hint about where we are!) Everywhere in the casino downstairs was jam packed, and I was beginning to despair that another thing I’d planned was going to turn to shit. All the places on the ground floor were filled with lines that looked like they might start shifting around the same time that glaciers once again covered the area. None of them were what I wanted anyway. I had sort of requested a decent, quiet place where I could maybe get a steak or something. Holly went off to see about my request, and when she returned she took us down a long, long walk to the other end of the complex. I mean, you have to know where this restaurant is, or have someone leading you. However, I brightened as we approached because I’ve been told that the small out of the way spot in a casino, far removed from just about everything, is usually the one place where you can get some decent food without needing a mortgage.

Augustus was A) almost completely free of humanity and B) One of the nicest dining experiences I’ve had all year. I will admit that I get pissy about food, like Nero Wolfe levels of pissy. However, what other people call ‘being bitchy’ I call ‘having standards’ and I refuse to bend on them. I also don’t fuck dead squirrels I find on the side of the road. Let’s hear it for standards. I must admit that after looking at the price of my appetizer (some breaded and fried mozzarella balls) and seeing what I actually got (ten small balls of mozzarella, about the size of a gumball from a quarter vending machine) I said “These had better be the best fried cheese balls I’ve ever had.” However, upon eating one, I was forced to then admit, “They got lucky.”

Syd had a really nice soup made from white cheese and a vegetable that escapes me followed by a lobster tail and steak. I had a steak and roasted potatoes with some vegetables and deep fried scallions on top which sounds weird but tasted wonderful. And, my steak was served the way I like it, which is rare on the first try. Holly had some kind of avocado deep friend wonton things, I don’t understand exactly what it was, but she liked them.

While I was sitting in the very nicely appointed place, eating my perfectly cooked streak, enjoying myself, fireworks started to go off. No, that’s not a metaphor. Actual fireworks were going off just outside the large picture window. I had a sort of view of the river from where I was and while I was eating someone decided that the world needed a fireworks display. They saw that there were no fireworks and became bound and determined that this no firework shooting off bullshit must end.

So there I was, eating a meal you only see on TV, with my two loves, in a sort of open-air restaurant that wouldn’t look out of place in a movie, and fireworks started to go off like they might in a movie. In the distance, the piano player started playing Penny Lane. That was the single thing that grounded me in reality, and that wasn’t irritating or anything. If she wasn’t on a Beatles meets the Classics kick and maybe playing some Duke Ellington, I would have started to look for cameras.

Every once in a while, the gods look around and notice that a person is unhappy. So they offer something like this up in hopes that you won’t climb their mountain, or cross their rainbow bridge or otherwise invade their citadel with a device that is ostensibly meant for thumping tires.

It would confirm my faith if I had any.

The only problem was I got tired and needed to leave the casino before midnight. But we found a bar and Syd had a drink and everyone screamed when it got to midnight (‘cept me, I was busy turning into a pumpkin) and we left. Everyone but me is sleeping now, because I developed a headache and had to take some Excedrin and wash it down with a Coke. That’s not a complaint though, that’s just winter.

Also, Syd and I both won more than we spent gambling, which means we both know when to just walk away.

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January 1, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment