Well, on Friday evening Boof, Funky and myself finally did the whole "dress up and go out to dinner" thing that was purely an excuse for me to wear the so-unlike-me outfit which they pressured me into buying in the first place. We made a dinner reservation at Mangrove Jacks, one of the new restaurants in the "marina precinct", and after several hours with the polyfilla, I had my make up done. It had been so long since I actually put on any make-up that I followed a magazine's make-up guide, for the first time in over ten years (it was the "femme face" from the March Marie Claire, for those of you playing at home), and I think the results turned out rather well.
But then came the moment of truth...putting the dress on. I don't remember it being so low-cut when I bought it! So low cut in fact, that I couldn't even wear a stick on bra. Honestly, I've been engaged to guys who've seen less of my clevage than what I displayed to all and sundry on Friday evening. Couple that with the shoes, which left me barely able to walk, and it took all of Boof and Funky's flattery/persuasion when they arrived to pick me up, just to get me out the door. But despite Boof getting RBT'd on the way to the restaurant, we made it there without my being arrested for indecent exposure, and you can see the results for yourself...
The "dramatic shot" on the stairs.
I'm desperatley clutching the stair rail so I don't fall off my shoes and break my neck.
"Young lady, you are not leaving the house dressed like that!"
It helped me no end that when we arrived, the restaurant was practically empty - at 8pm on a Friday night; I think that they need a much better marketing plan. We all ordered the lamb with prawns, and as Boof dosen't eat seafood, that was more prawns for us. I did make something of a faux pas by ordering a Wolf Creek chardonnay (I meant to say Wolf Blass, whoopsie) but I don't think the waiter noticed, even though the guys were nearly wetting themselves. Unfortunatley, although my food was fine, their lamb dishes were both underdone, and as they were too timid to send them back, I felt obligated to give some of my lamb to Boof (who complained more than Funky. Alot more).
Anyway, we had a good time, and agreed we must make the dinner out a regular thing, though I doubt that we'll be returning to that place again. Afterwords, despite my fears, there wasn't even any mention that we'd be going on to a nightclub - after all, the guys are nearly 30 too. We even skipped dessert at Cold Rock, because when we drove past, the place was packed with the under-21 crowd and we really didn't feel like queuing up with them. No, Funky and Boof went home to curl up in front of the TV with Lilly, I went home to curl up with Xander, and that's the way we like it. (And before you say "oh, god that sounds boring", let me tell you - the subjects of insurance, mortgages, real estate and superannuation did not come up during dinner at all!)
Oh, in case you're wondering - there are also photos of Boof and Funky, I'm not a complete ego-maniac. However, they have consistently refused to let me post photos of themselves here, for their own reasons, and I have to respect that - even if some people suspect that they're just characters I made up, who don't actually exist.