Imagine our surprise when we were in and out of the license plate place in no more than 15 minutes. We were even more surprised that we dealt with a very pleasant woman who had a sense of humor and who even helped me remember our license plate number by deciding that LBC stands for lazy blue cat. Although that means nothing, it will stick in my head. Now I just need to work on the numbers.
We giddily walked through a little corridor to the driver's license section, feeling quite proud of ourselves. Of course, nothing is ever all easy. Turns out that we forgot (or didn't realize we needed) our social security cards AND our birth certificates. So we ran home, grabbed it all up (thankful that we hadn't sent any of it to be stored in my parents' home in Connecticut), snatched our passports just in case, and headed back. The driver's license woman had a case of grimness and barely cracked a smile, although I tried to be as funny as humanly possible, considering we were in a DMV. But other than that, it was relatively painless! So all in all, it wasn't a horrible experience, and we were out of there before noon. Now we just have to wait 30 days to see how the photos turned out.
We commemorated our new residency by going to an El Salvadorean restaurant I'd seen while out on errands. My goal was to celebrate with a margarita. But alas, not only didn't the restaurant serve much of an El Salvadorean menu, it also did not sell margaritas (although its menu proclaimed that it did). Oh well. After a little work at home, we spent that evening around Dave and Donielle's pool, sipping wine and scotch (depending on who was doing the sipping) and meeting some of Dave's neighbors and friends. Nice folks.
The next morning we got a not-so-early start (thanks to the remnants of the previous night's sipping) on my planned driving tour of the greater Dallas area (see the "Movie Texas" part of the article). Turns out that going for a weekend drive to explore Texas is nowhere near as interesting, pretty, scenic, etc., etc., as doing the same through the Colorado mountains or the San Francisco Bay area. So, it wasn't that much fun at all, though we did find a nice restaurant in Waxahachie (crepe/crape myrtle capital of Texas and home to more lawyer's offices than I think I have ever seen in any small town) where we enjoyed a yummy lunch at the 1879 Chisholm Grill, and Mark had his first experience with sweet tea. (When we asked the waitress how much sugar they put in the tea, she said it depended on who made it. She then relayed a story of how she once took a big gulp of tea, only to have her jaw lock up from the sweetness of it. WOW!)
After being in the car all day, having driven through downtown Dallas (past the grassy knoll), and on to Waxahachie, Maypearl (supposedly one of the prettiest little towns in Texas ... we highly beg to differ), and then downtown Fort Worth (which actually looks pretty nice, though by that point we were too exhausted to get out and look around), we worked our way back to Flower Mound, where I forced the issue of trying to find a margarita. We ended up at El Chico's, where we experienced firsthand what it means to live in a formerly dry town.
Downtown Dallas 
Waxahachie CourthouseApparently, Flower Mound and Lewisville used to be dry cities. From what the bartender told us, they aren't anymore, but many of the private establishments keep up with the old system. In order to buy something other than beer or wine at a restaurant, you have to show them your driver's license (which, of course, we don't really have ... just a piece of paper right now). But they don't care about photos. They just enter the DL number into some machine, and we get a card that we have to sign stating that we are now members of their little club. And then we can get a drink. It's just one step up from knocking on a door and uttering the secret password through a slotted window.
The margarita wasn't nearly as good as I was hoping, but maybe it was just the long day that put a bitter taste in my mouth. So we went to pick up Kai from Dave and Donielle's, rented a couple movies, took Kai for a walk, and chilled out for the rest of the evening. A nice ending to a long, hot day. [Side note: Sunday we ate of TGI Friday's while running errands, and I finally got a surprisingly good 'rita, and also learned some TGIF history from an incredibly friendly waitress--both potato skins and Long Island iced tea supposedly started in a TGIF restaurant.]
Our walk with Kai
On the phone with the Asakawas during our walkLast night we headed into Old Lewisville, one of the more charming towns in our immediate area, to see a live concert in the square: Big Daddy Alright, a pretty good 7-piece swing band. Good times!
2 comments:
It's just one step up from knocking on a door and uttering the secret password through a slotted window.
Oh, but wouldn't that be ever so much more fun?!?
Absolutely! But of course I'd have to wear a flapper dress and Mark would be in his dapper spats!
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