InCARcerated Date Night

A nearly unforgiveable play on words, but it’s my blog, so it is what it is.

Two weeks into the Covid Incarceration, we innovated a Date Night by ordering out at the Olive Garden in Kirkland and making the round trip in the Midget. A little fresh air blowing through the hair, a little sunshine, some sports car noise, and food.

Breath in the air, life is truly a sports car

It’s not called a Midget for no reason. With the 2 of us in, there was just enough room behind the bucket seats to put the bag of food. We got some enthusiastic “that’s cool” nods from folks, including the delivery carhop, or whatever the converted staff is called. I thought it very clever of Olive Garden to quickly morph a whole strip of parking into the “ToGo Carside Pickup” zone.

I gotta believe it’s even nicer to be outside than in.
The booze adverts were everywhere! Seems a bit odd for a drive up…

They even smartly jumped on the upsell wagon by offering beer, wine, and White Claw at the curbside, with a cool window display to match. It looks a little like Amsterdam for booze.

I get the beer and wine, but White Claw?

We combined the idea with the Olive Garden gift card I received for my birthday from the boss, and the total amount allowed us to order a staggering amount of food and still leave a 50% tip for the carhop staff.

This will make 3 meals for us, and set us back $33, plus a $17 tip!

When I first started putting the Midget (his name is Eddie by the way) back together during the restoration, I opted to have a Harley muffler put on. I owe this to the theory that “if they can’t see you, they should at least HEAR you”. The strategy works well for motorcycles, and I figured we’re not much bigger, and not even as tall, so I went all in on noise. For the most part, it also helped to turn a lot of heads to get me those hard-earned nods and waves of “that’s so cool” that every sports car owner really craves. But, I’ve been noticing lately that it’s getting harder and harder to gratify my ego, what with everybody walking along a street nose-down into a smart phone. I don’t think they make a louder muffler; I may have to resort to a train horn.

I did figure out a way to get a little attention, however. Well, I didn’t so much figure it out as it happened to me. One of the little gadgets I installed recently was an electronic battery saver, to keep the battery from draining to nothing during months of winter inactivity. It has a function that automatically disconnects the battery when the voltage drops a little too low, the theory being that you can still salvage enough charge to start the motor when you finally do want to drive. I was bragging about this little gem of technology to Wendy, idling at a red light in the large intersection just a block from home, when the little switch-thingie in it decided to disconnect the battery, and old Eddie died. Oops. I immediately jumped out, just as the light turned green, and started pushing furiously through the intersection. I jumped out so fast that Wendy couldn’t get out to help, but luckily a few passers-by jumped to the ready and helped us get the old boy pushed into the Rite Aid parking lot. We definitely got a lot of stares, they just weren’t the kind I’m looking for. Oh well, it’s a Little British Car. I suspect the new battery saver gadget just heard me bragging, and wanted to show me who’s boss, just like the rest of the phukacta car. Yes, I intentionally misspelled that.

One minute in the parking lot, the hood went up, and I heard the little switchy-gadget re-engage, and bingo, Eddie fired up and 2 minutes later we pulled into the garage, with our Date Night Dinner in hand, and a great story to tell!

Tippy might have to eat the rest of that food.

About W&W Mudd

Re-retired again, Wendy and Warren publish as they adventure into the far reaches of their New World.
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