Magic Gift Cards

So, last we talked, Scott had tricked me into thinking he didn't get On the Border and then he did.  Sneaky.  Then they didn't put tortillas in the bag, which necessitated a trip to the store because tortillas are pretty necessary for fajitas and we didn't have any.  This was obviously very upsetting to Scott, who had been in the car for over two hours and just wanted to eat dinner and relax.  He called and talked to the manager, one of those "I'm not sure why I'm calling because it's not like you can do anything" scenarios.  We've all had those moments of frustration. 

So yesterday I had hearings in Kansas City.  They ran long (as hearings tend to do), and I finally got to head home around 2:15pm.  I had a gift card for Chili's/On the Border so I decided I'd pick up a small dinner to have when I got home.  I called and ordered and the lady who took my order somehow knew I was Scott's wife.  When I went to pick it up she refused to let me pay, or even tip.  Free food, yes! 

Today, I was working in Jeff City and there is a Chili's by our office there.  I decided to try again with the gift card, so I ordered a small salad with some chicken quesadillas.  When I went to pick it up, the woman had somehow put in an order for cajun pasta.  Fail.  When I pointed this out, she was so apologetic and quickly fixed the order.  The manager came out and apologized and said "it's on us."  I had my gift card in hand and I was once again denied.  Not only that, but she told me to keep the pasta too!  So, I suppose that's my dinner.  This card has magical powers; every time I try to use it I end up getting free food.  I'm just going to start bringing it with me everywhere.  "Can I pay for this book with a Chili's gift card?  No?  Damn."

As a sidenote to my KC trip, the SSA office was about 2 miles from the house my dad lived in for a bit when he was a kid.  It's a really weird set up, because the office is in a somewhat shady part of town, and then you drive for about a minute, cross a street, and then it's a whole different neighborhood with beautiful older houses and quaint little shops.  Here are some pictures:

I like seeing the house (I've been by it once before).  It was the last house my grandfather lived in before he passed away in a plane crash.  I don't have much of a connection to him, aside from what I have heard from my dad and other family members.  It feels special to me to be connected to something that was connected to him, because I so wish I could have known him.  I felt the same way when I was in Europe, knowing he had walked some of those same streets 60+ years before during WWII.  Any chance I have to walk where he walked, or see something he saw, I appreciate those moments.

*end of sentiment*

Toodles!