OK, so maybe not quite an elitist, but we went to a sports bar in Scappoose, Oregon, and swore the name of the place was “Cletus.” (It was really Cleats.) Left a 25% tip because it was either that or wait again for change. And leaving $1.75 didn’t seem very nice. The food was OK, but not as good as the Klondike in St. Helens. In any case, I’m not exactly having great luck at bars this weekend. And by luck, I just mean decent service.
So, after not seeing a Formula One car race since last year, I watched the San Marino Grand Prix twice today. The second time was to keep me from making Greg do any more work. We tore out some rotted boards out of his garage, which he blamed on his wife somehow, but is really because the prevailing winds drive the rain up against that side of his house.
So really, nothing of interest happened.