DATE NIGHT
The entire Internet had been abuzz when it was announced that Garbage Bag Johnny and Muriel Puddings had indeed followed through with their date the Saturday following the last ReVival. The two whisked themselves away to lovely Reno to dine their stomachs’ content at the Silver Legacy Potato Bar. For three meals.
Indeed, Johnny had lived up to his testimony when he met her there: handing Muriel $140 in cold hard cash. Muriel, impressed by the gesture, decided to book a room at the hotel to maximize all of the fringe benefits of the 22-topping layout. It has yet to be confirmed whether Johnny shared the room with her, but we do know they both appeared for the Hash Brown Brunch-a-rama the following morning at the same time.
Apparently, they enjoyed one another’s company: as the two planned a second date once Muriel had returned to Sin City. More than a bit lovestruck, though, Johnny had not stopped to think about the timing constraints of their proposed meet up. When the Gem State Gem had mentioned Friday night around 9 at It Takes Tuber to Tango (Las Vegas’ premier potato bar/dance club), he immediately agreed. They boasted a whopping 37 toppings, so how could he not?
This gave plenty of time for Muriel to hop down the Boulevard and arrive. Especially since she had opted to wear the same macrame “dress” that she wore in the opener: an oversized Big Dogs tee altered into a maxi dress. Unfortunately, with the Tag Team Survivor competition starting almost an hour and a half before, the Bag would have to choose between a rock and his cock, and to the detriment of his team, he went with the latter, skipping out of the challenge in order to meet his real life sexy lighter lady.
He didn’t know his tribe’s fate, or his team’s fate, but he made it. Dudded up and dressed to kill in his finest, black and flamed patterned bathrobe, he hoped to give Muriel the Triple D experience in every sense of the letter. Sure, he didn’t have any time to shower, but the Cool Water he’d swiped from a drug store was enough to cover the fresh coat of sweat. It meshed together perfectly with Muriel’s Calgon body spray: a scent-sation if you will!
The other patrons weren’t quite as appreciative of their aromatic art as they were, though. All of the surrounding tables were empty, which was just fine for the two suitors. The vacant space and the dim lighting next to the dance floor made it all the more special. Topped off with the DJ spinning R&B classics from such artists as Toni Braxton and Soul 4 Real, the mood was ripe for romance.
And potatoes.
Garbage Bag Johnny: So then, we sent both elevators down to the main floor, and I climbed out through the ceiling panel, crawled across to the other elevator, and went through it like I was Tom Friggin’ Cruise in Mission Impossible.
Muriel nods, but she’s having a hard time balancing her attention between Johnny’s story and her well-adorned (toppings-wise) baked russett. Johnny clears his throat and switches gears to something more romantic.
Garbage Bag Johnny: You know, after our first date, I didn’t think there was any way you would need more than 22 toppings for a baked potato. But marinara sauce is a pretty nice touch for number 23.
Muriel nods in approval, swirling around a lavalike concoction with strands of shredded cheddar, bacon bits, and chives floating inside of it. Dunking the last bite of her potato into it and smothering the morsel, she takes a bite and talks with her mouth full.
Muriel Puddings: And don’t count out the Thousand Island dressing to round out lucky number 24! I’m gonna try the cottage cheese and crushed up Cool Ranch Doritos next.
Garbage Bag Johnny: I’ll hold the fort down while you go to tater town.
With that, Muriel excuses herself from the table to return to the potato bar. As soon as she’s off camera, GBJ sniffs his armpits and applies one more misting of stolen Cool Water before psyching himself up.
Garbage Bag Johnny: You’re killing it, G-Bag. The conversation is flowing. She’s loving the potatoes. I’m loving the potatoes. Just gotta stay on course and we’ll be mashing taters of our own in no time if I catch my drift, which I do, because I’m me talking to myself.
Out of things to say, GBJ turns back to his potato, a starchy ship floating in a sea of marinara, and goes back to work. He’s almost finished as Muriel comes back with her cottage cheese and Cool Ranch spud. GBJ gets up from his seat and pulls Muriel’s chair out for her like a true gentleman.
Garbage Bag Johnny: I don’t know what looks more delicious. You or that potato.
Muriel Puddings: Aw, shucks. Leave being corny and cheesy to the potatoes.
GBJ laughs nervously as Muriel takes her seat and immediately goes to work on her new plate.
Garbage Bag Johnny: If I left corn and cheese to the potatoes with all the other exotic toppings here, where would the adventure be in that?
Muriel Puddings: Whatcha getting next?
Garbage Bag Johnny: A gentleman never tells.
And with that, GBJ’s back to the bar for a clean plate and a fresh tate. Muriel, enjoying the view of his ass as he makes his stride for more grub, reaches down below the table for her purse and begins to fumble through it. Pulling out a monogrammed hand mirror (with the initials VH on it), she does a quick beauty check.
Muriel Puddings: Damn, bae, you are killing it. The conversation’s as smooth as silk, just like you. I’m loving the potatoes, he’s loving the potatoes. Just gotta stay the course and we will be mashing potatoes in no time, and by that I mean that we will be freakin’ banging each other’s brains out until they are an easily digestible solid. Just in case you couldn’t catch a more subtle phrasing, which sometimes I can’t, even if I’m talking to myself. Which I am right now.
Leaving the pocketbook on her lap, Muriel puts the stolen makeup accessory back and resumes scarfing the cottage cheese-drenched spud. She smiles up at Johnny as he returns, a visible speck of Dorito caught on her front tooth.
GBJ sets the plate down and presents his hands as if he were displaying a masterpiece. Another potato, but this time featuring hard boiled egg yolks (just the yolks, no whites), diced radish, and layered with a healthy portion of sriracha. He had squirted the sauce to make the open-faced potato appear to be smiling.
Muriel Puddings: Nice. But I was thinkin’, hun. You know what would really make these bad boys pop off? A little topping that I brought along myself…
Garbage Bag Johnny: What more could we need? We’ve got so many al-ahhhhhhhhhh.
A grin spreads across Johnny’s face as Muriel casually sneaks a plastic baggie containing various dried stems and caps from the purse. Placing it underneath a napkin (only making it more obvious that it was not something that you should have,) she slides it across the table.
Garbage Bag Johnny: I gotta say, Muriel. This might be the best second date I’ve ever been on.
Muriel Puddings: It’s the only second date I’ve ever been on. I’m not used to being wined and dined like this. Most people just want one thing from me.
Garbage Bag Johnny: That really makes me sad to hear, darling. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, and you deserve to be treated with respect!
Muriel Puddings: You’re such a charmer. Oh, and let me just add that I usually also only want one thing from them, too. But maybe not you. You might be someone special.
Garbage Bag Johnny: I’ll eat to that!
Muriel Puddings: Cheers!
The two then take a fistful of psychedelics and begin to feed each other the mushrooms. Not exactly a Lady & the Tramp moment, but close enough.