Midnight Margaritas

When you’ve known someone for more than twenty years, Gentle Reader, you need to make time for them in your life, even if you’re not quite as close as you were back in kindergarten. Thus it was that, despite preparing to leave the country indefinitely, I made the trek up to Seattle; thus it was the my dear Mr. Darling welcomed me into his home.

We were due to take Midnight Margaritas.


Don’t give me that look, ladies.

Naturally, I arrived before midnight, and we had an evening to fill. Darling is well-known in town, and I always feel a bit prim and modest when we’re together in Town; a wide-eyed little country mouse who goes about saying “Golly!” – that isn’t to say that I don’t usually go about saying that, but I do usually feel a bit dowdy. This time, I didn’t let it bother me – after all, I’m going to be living out of my luggage for the foreseeable, so why make a fuss?

We caught up in his apartment, blowing smoke and chitting chat. It was a Thursday, so as not to interfere with his successful dancing gigs; I left the evening’s plan up to him. After asking after our respective mothers, we freshened up for the evening, and headed to True Love Art Gallery, where they were holding a show. True Love is also a tattoo parlor, run by an ex of Darling’s – a very gracious man. The art was arranged according to the Zodiac theme that evening, and we made the loop.


Out in the night air once more, we trotted off to karaoke at the Cuff, which I know primarily as a leather bar. Evidently, it’s more subdued on weeknights or every night when you’re not playing Aunt Augusta. Whatever. We sang a few songs, and discussed more important things – life, and men, – while avoiding some more delicate subjects – like life, and men.

We stopped off for a late supper on the way home, and then again for supplies. It was about 11, and we were to arrive just in time to mix our cocktails; Darling isn’t much of a drinker, but he indulged me by indulging in one. He put on Harry Nilsson’s “Coconut” as tradition dictates; I mixed the drinks; we danced around a bit, and it was utterly utter. Precisely what I’d hoped for.

At this point, it turned out to be the birthday of his good friend A, who then came over with another friend, N, who I’d never met before – A was utterly charming as always, and N was a perfect gentleman. We played games of all sorts until nearly six, including Gloom, a particular favorite.

In short? My visit was everything I wished it to be, and Darling is an utter sweetheart as well as a thorough brick.


About Ty DeLyte

Madame DeLyte has suffered a grave disappointment - YET AGAIN - and still believes that freedom, beauty, and truth are what's valuable, rather than vulgar cash. He'd add love to that list - but, well, what can he say about love?
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5 Responses to Midnight Margaritas

  1. ekgo says:

    I didn’t read this! I am still not catching up because I am the worst friend you have. But the title! Midnight Margaritas! I LOVE “PRACTICAL MAGIC” SO SO SO MUCH!!! and I think I’ve mentioned that before but I wanted to mention it again. ❤

    • Oh, honey, seriously, you are NOT the worst friend I have. Those can be conveniently found under the section called “Fiends, Foes, and Frenemies”, uh, somewhere in one of the tabs. 😀

      HOWEVER: I LOVE “PRACTICAL MAGIC” VERY MUCH TOO, and we would always watch it in highschool, and I was Sandra Bullock, and Darling was Nicole Kidman, even though I was the redhead. Except we weren’t either of them really, because he was Channing Tatum and I was… err.. the other one whose name I can never recall. (That always killed me, because Channing got better hats.)

      Anyway, what you didn’t read is that basically we are fulfilling our destiny and turning into a pair of spinsters.

      • ekgo says:

        Hahahaha! No no! Stockard Channing! Stockard! And Diane Wiest. Because I love them most. Though, Noelle and I are totally the movie sisters with me being Sandra and Noelle being Nicole and we hope to transition into Stockard and Diane when we’re a bit older. The book sisters and aunts are quite different but it’s still a good story.

        I would have been a spinster with you had stupid husbandface not come along and married me. Blame him for my lack of crazy cat lady spinsterhood! 🙂

        • Oh, my stars? Did I actually type Channing Tatum? (The evidence says I did. Oh, lord. Whoops! Although now I kind of want to see him in that role. >:-) )

          Also: <3<3<3<3<3

  2. Pingback: Post the Hundred and Fourth: BLOGIVERSARY EXTRAVAGANZA! | Whimsical Adventures of the Reverend Doctor

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