So I'm not one that gets caught up in fate, or divine intervention, or luck, or miracles, or omens and all that stuff. Sure, I think there are some things that just can't be explained. Or weird shit that happens that makes you scratch your head and say, "Hmmmm..." But for the most part, I don't get freaked easily. But tonight, I kind of got a little spooked.
As most of you know, the girls sleep over at my parents' house almost every Saturday night. We're lucky it even happens, and I truly know that there are very few other parents out there that get this little treat. But we don't ever do anything. LOL! We're old. We're tired. And there's not much to do in our little town. So most Saturdays, while the kids are gone, we're just sitting here... me on the computer and Steve watching random TV shows until we finally fall asleep.
Steve decided this week that we need to start going out more. Even if it's just to eat dinner after we drop the girls off. Great. I LOVE eating out, so I'm all for it.
So tonight, we dropped the girls off at my parents' house and headed to a local restaurant. I don't love for the food that much, although it's decent. I just love the building and the restaurant itself. It kicks ass. It's HUGE. This one building houses the restaurant, as well as a small concert hall. There have been some really famous people that play concert in our little town in this building. Steve & I have seen a bunch of concerts there... everyone from Rick Springfield, to Ricky Skaggs, to Kevin Sharp, to Taylor Hicks of American Idol fame. So the restaurant has a music "theme" if you will. Lots of memorabilia, old license plates, old guitars and other instruments, huge canvases of famous musicians, etc. It's just cool. It's fun to sit there and look around at everything.
So anyway, we're there and I start snapping pictures. Except I don't want anyone to see what a total dork I am, so I'm taking them without a flash. LOL! So forgive the shitty shots. I do have some pride and didn't want to look like a total tourist, since I'm, like, NOT a tourist. LOL!
This was directly above our table. It's a big car and a sign with the name of the restaurant on it. I LOVE the incredibly high ceilings in this place, as well as all of the exposed big pipes and beams. It's just cool.
This is shot across the restaurant. There are statues of the Blues Brothers in the one corner, up near the ceiling.
So anyway... back to the freaky shit. We talk, we drink, we eat, we ask for the check. No problem. So the waitress sets our bill on the table and walks away. I flip open the little folder containing the damage and immediately get freaked out a bit. This is what I see...
Now, it's not three sixes, so I wasn't worried in terms of the devil's sign or anything. But seriously... what are the odds that 5 Miller Lites, potato skins as an appetizer, a steak and some sea bass are going to add up to a 4-digit total with ALL four numbers being the exact same once tax is added. $66.66. Weird.
So we're joking about how we should maybe stop on the way home and buy some lottery tickets or something, when I happen to glance up and notice one of the old vintage signs on the wall next to Steve's head. It's a route 66 sign. And it says, "Route 66" AND has the famous symbol for Route 66 on it too, between "Route" and "66". So we now have four more 6's. 6666. What the hell?
Oh, but wait. It doesn't stop there. So at this moment, the people across the aisle from us get up and leave their booth. I glance over and what do I see? An old license plate that the woman had been blocking before she got up to leave. What's on this old license plate? Yup. Another reference to Route 66, complete with the symbol. So we've got another four 6's. Steve and I are surrounded by sets of sixes. And all sets have four of 'em.
Seriously, it was kind of creepy. Mostly because all of this took place within about 20 seconds. So it seemed like everywhere I turned, I was being haunted by 6's. To my left, to my right, and in front of me on that damn check that started it all. It was just weird people! Weird.
Needless to say, we didn't stop to play the lottery. We high-tailed it home and decided that if next week, we're bombarded with 7's, we're putting a stop to this whole damn Date Night idea of Steve's. LOL!
(And if you read about my suicide tomorrow, it's because I've woken up in the morning and read how another local woman played "6666" in the lottery last night and won $10 million. Because that's the kind of luck we have, ya know. ;)