Never ask, "Where will you be having the sigmoidoscopy done?"

Stevie and I went to the outlet mall on Saturday to buy me some work clothes. It turns out that I suck the fun out of the outlet mall. Unsurprising. Lane Bryant is not as good a place to meet women as you might imagine. I bought some pants, but everything else fell above the "cheaper on eBay" price point. I already won a bid on a new coat and some "only worn once" work shoes.

Ms. Krantz invited us to the drive-in Saturday night, and honestly, I had at least mild interest in each part of the triple feature, but since Stevie can barely muster the attention span necessary for a full episode of HGTV's House Hunters, we eventually eschewed the movies in favor of an evening with Missy and her cousin Maggie in Apple Valley. The hotel bar is a cheap and reliable good time, though for the life of me, I can't imagine who stays at a hotel in Apple Valley.

I got new front tires for my car this weekend, and was reminded what a pleasure driving is when my car isn't shaking like an old-timey weight-loss machine. New tires for your car, as my dad often says, are like new laces for your shoes. All the pleasure and luxury, with none of the painful expense or break-in period. Someone kindly send an e-mail to me about three years ago, telling me to start a blog of all my dad's earthy wisdom so that I can option it into a book deal and a sitcom pilot.

I'm back to work, and pleased to find that I haven't forgotten everything over the weekend. They're selling some kind of Thai beef and noodle dish in the Eatery today, but it smells suspiciously like beef stroganoff. I will be having diet cola and granola bars.