So last night we saw a Who Dun' It Murder Mystery live theatre show at Mastersons. I was a little miffed that my husband was the only person at our table to identify the killer. Well, no, I wasn't bothered that he was the only one at our table who figured it out - I was just mad because he deduced and I didn't! We also went to Third Avenue Cafe for drinks. I haven't been in there for ages. My friend Megan describes it as "the friends coffeehouse but with liquor." The band was already tearing down their set when we arrived, around 9:00, but I imagined Phoebe riding away in a cab humming Smelly Cat to herself. I finished the night at Mr. G's in Middletown, sans my moody hubby, who was ready to call it at night at ten in the evening on a Saturday. He said he didn't feel well. Maybe being thirty and a half years old does that to a man: maybe getting married does that to a man. It worked out nicely for me, though, as I got to get properly smashed and rid...
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