Okay, so last time, I was standing in the bathroom of the AirB&B Casita in Albuquerque, having a ...well...a quiet pee...when all of a sudden...
I was bleeding.
It was a good old fashioned nosebleed, of course, just like the kind we all get as children. Except I wasn’t too fond of them when I was six, and I’m even less fond of them now.
It was dry air, of course. I always forget how dry the air is in New Mexico. And I’ve been away from Albuquerque for several years now. So, there I was, not feeling great to begin with (allergies? altitude? whatever) and bleeding like ye olde proverbial stuck pig...an expression I do not like, and which seemed even more unpleasant as I was standing there.
Well...I thought, as I tried to juggle the bleeding in one hand and the you-know-what in the other...at least it couldn’t get much worse, right?
Wrong. There weren’t any tissues in my pockets. And the tissue on the roller was out. So, icky. But, still...I consoled myself...that’s as bad as it is going to get, right?
Wrong. I remembered I was wearing a white shirt. Which now looked...uh..pretty darn awful. I mean, splotch city. I mean, like red everywhere. Like me and the rest of the herd had just staged a daring escape from abattoir central...but I was the only one who managed to avoid the hamburger helper.
Somehow I made my way out of the bathroom and Martha rushed to help. I did all the things you usually do...applying pressure, pinching the nose, leaning my head back, etc....and finally the bleeding stopped. I looked at my shirt mournfully. I figured it was gone for good. We wouldn’t even be able to donate it to Goodwill. Unless, of course, somebody wanted to use it for a Halloween costume. I can see it now. “The Horrors of Dracula’s Aperitif! Now in thrilling Technicolor! Starring some vaguely famous has-been pseudo-Shakespearean actor you’re almost certain you’ve heard of (but can’t quite think where) and a lovely blonde who falls out of her dress a lot. It’s 1960s horror cinema at its finest.”
Martha, however, saved the day. A little cold water and some Dawn soap and everything was fine. I mean, heck. If it works on ducks in oil spills, why not me?
Anyway, after a bit more micro-drama, we were done. After that, we rested a bit, and then, changed clothes for our big night out. It was, after all, our anniversary.
About the photos: First, Martha plus moi on our way into El Pinto’s. I don’t often post selfies, but this one seemed right. Second, a shot of one of the greenhouses at Albuquerque’s Biopark. If you’re in the city, and you get a chance to visit the Bio, definitely do so. Third, and last, a shot of one of the several huge water tanks in the foothills just outside the city. This is what keeps a desert town alive, folks.
We headed out about six thirty. We got to the restaurant at just before seven. Remember how I said that I thought a reservation would be unnecessary? Well, I was wrong. We arrived to find the parking lot (which is huge) filled to overflowing. I remembered the same parking lot as it was way back when...when I’d been a kid...when most of it had been unpaved, and you never saw it even partly full. That day was loooong gone.
We finally found an empty space (it was about two miles away, I think. Okay, maybe it just felt that way) and we began the Long March to the front of the restaurant. We finally arrived and went in through enormous wooden doors into the lobby. We presented ourselves at the desk and explained we had a reservation. The clerks nodded...with just a touch of indifference. And then they added that if we would kindly step aside, and wait over *there,* they’d have a table for us... eventually. I was sort of surprised. Again, I was running on old tapes...back from the days when a reservation meant a bit more, and when El Pinto wasn’t booked quite so fully.
After a bit, a young woman appeared and let us back into the enormity of the restaurant...through the patio seating area (quite beautiful in the gathering dark), through a dining room, down a hallway, and finally, after what seemed a bit of a safari, to a crowded room in the back where a heavy wooden table awaited us.
We seated ourselves. I looked around. The room was packed. Every table as far as the eye could see was filled to capacity. We were one of the few couples in the place. Mostly, it was parties and groups. There seemed to be a large family thing going on across the room. There was another party at a long table which had the look of a business outing...I guessed software or some other high tech. The table directly behind us contained two well-dressed couples, who were laughing and talking...a little too loudly. There were several empty glasses before them.
No, I thought. It wasn’t the same restaurant I remembered from my youth. Or even from the time we’d lived in town.
But, even so, it was still ...albeit in a different way...quite nice. And I knew it we would, also in a different way, enjoy it.
But more on all that next time.
Copyright©2025 Michael Jay Tucker
Wanna Hangout?
I’ve decided to launch a newsletter to keep you in the loop with everything I’m working on--new blog posts (“The Martha Plus Michael Chronicles”), books, short stories, videos, and all my other projects.
Just go to the following webpage and enter your email address in the space provided:
I’ll keep you updated on all my newest projects! And, to sweeten the deal, I’ll be posting some exclusive content that can only be accessed by subscribers to this newsletter.
So, type in your email address now! And let’s get things moving!
~mjt
Comments