Susan now reads my blog, whew, it's different writing a text when you know specifics about your audience. Better yet to be speaking to the void, a faceless audience, thoughts flow more smoothly, but I welcome her attention to my story.
The day after I arrive in San Diego Martha* calls. She lives in an upscale condo and is inviting people to play Shanghai Rummy, a card game that requires eight participants. She needs to have that exact count for the game to happen and four of her regulars have declined and she sounds downright desperate. I don't know what I hate more, playing cards or meeting new people, but when Susan asks me would I like to attend, I say, "Sounds like fun, okay!" God, I'm a miserable piece of humanity.
The night arrives and I had eaten a Baha monstrosity at a local bistro and gosh, it was good, but my belly chose to expand and implode and I was extremely uncomfortable, opening my jeans to accomodate the bloated tummy. I yearned for the comfort of sweatpants, but had neglected to pack the dear things because I was still in the summer wardrobe zone.
We drive to Martha's and I remind Susan that I am not a social animal but I am nosey about other people's houses and yes, there will be scrumptious hors d'eurves that I will put into my already too-full belly. We arrive at the condo and I heave my swollen carcass out of the car and up the fancy staircase. Martha tells us the regulars changed their minds and they plan on attending and when Susan realizes that our presence is not necessary she recants. "You don't need us," and after five minutes of visitation we are in the car and headed back for an evening of pajamas and margaritas on her living room couch. God, I love this woman.
*name changed to protect the not-so-innocent (me)
The day after I arrive in San Diego Martha* calls. She lives in an upscale condo and is inviting people to play Shanghai Rummy, a card game that requires eight participants. She needs to have that exact count for the game to happen and four of her regulars have declined and she sounds downright desperate. I don't know what I hate more, playing cards or meeting new people, but when Susan asks me would I like to attend, I say, "Sounds like fun, okay!" God, I'm a miserable piece of humanity.
The night arrives and I had eaten a Baha monstrosity at a local bistro and gosh, it was good, but my belly chose to expand and implode and I was extremely uncomfortable, opening my jeans to accomodate the bloated tummy. I yearned for the comfort of sweatpants, but had neglected to pack the dear things because I was still in the summer wardrobe zone.
 |
| Bwhahaaa Baha entree |
We drive to Martha's and I remind Susan that I am not a social animal but I am nosey about other people's houses and yes, there will be scrumptious hors d'eurves that I will put into my already too-full belly. We arrive at the condo and I heave my swollen carcass out of the car and up the fancy staircase. Martha tells us the regulars changed their minds and they plan on attending and when Susan realizes that our presence is not necessary she recants. "You don't need us," and after five minutes of visitation we are in the car and headed back for an evening of pajamas and margaritas on her living room couch. God, I love this woman.
*name changed to protect the not-so-innocent (me)
4 comments:
I read it too, every one. :-) So there, now you know even more about your audience. I'm always thoroughly entertained.
Aw-w-w, jeesh . . .
Dawn, "HELLO" I was at the Farmer's market last week and walked by a group of complete strangers and heard one of the saying "did you see what Dawn wrote last night" and someone else answers, "are you kidding?? She was the reason I now have a smart phone with internet access."
Pulease remember us little people, stay grounded, and don't sell out to google, stay "Dawn"
Ok all kidding aside, I read em all too....
lolol to Mr.DaveyGie - funny. Getting away to a coastal region is always necessary in my books. And that pic is making me super hungry.
Post a Comment