Actually, this is Dexter’s Pub, not The Den of Iniquity. The Den of Iniquity is the Tahquamenon Falls Brewery, which a North Country Trail friend renamed after a teetotaler with a religious tilt in our group once fussed a bit that we were going there after snowshoeing. It isn’t actually a den of iniquity either. It is a family friendly bar/restaurant that is usually so crowded nowadays we don’t even try to go there.

What a difference a day makes. Taxes are now done except for one document. It isn’t late, it doesn’t arrive until this month. So today was a much different day than yesterday. The GG took off early this morning to take a walk. To Dexter. “Wanna meet me in Dexter?” Yep. What he meant was meet for lunch at Dexter’s Pub. Well. Mr. Golden Sun was out, the temperature at the time was in the low 30s but it was predicted to rise to 47 (and it did). YES!

So that’s what we did. I got there first and snagged two seats at the end of the bar. The server came to take my drink order and for some stupid reason, I felt obliged to tell her my husband would be joining me in a few minutes. I mean, is there any reason a baggy old woman can’t enter a bar by herself, sit at the bar and order a glass of cab? No there is not.

We each ordered a bowl of chili and I ordered a second glass of cab because the GG, after walking 14 miles, ordered a BIG beer and wasn’t finished with it. The server poured the usual pour and there was a little still left in the bottle so she dumped it in too, giggling with her eyes. It was more than I needed but what the heck.

I giggled quietly too, remembering the last time we went to Crazy Old Florida for FUN, i.e. not end-of-life issues or rescue missions. We were on our way to FlaMan’s trailer to pick him up for dinner and the GG (in a kinda panicky way) suggested I look for a restaurant. The reason for that was because earlier in the week, we had taken The Beautiful Suzie (the GG’s sister) and Mr. Ed out to eat and they struggled to think of a restaurant. They didn’t really like to dine out but finally came up with a lovely Italian restaurant they had eaten at back when they were first married, if I get it right. And that was a loooong time ago.

I remembered this but I looked at the GG and said, “Jack (aka FlaMan) will have a restaurant in mind.” And yes, he did. Cody’s Roadhouse! Okay, let’s go! I had my standard two glasses of wine with dinner since I didn’t know if they would make a decent ‘hattan or not. We were sitting at the bar and the food was fine. The bartender must have been paying a bit of attention to whatever crazy conversation we were having because, as my second whine was approaching the bottom of the glass, he (with my silent permission) winked and dumped the last bit of a bottle in. FlaMan is a “trip” albeit a beloved one.

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