As a rule I make it a point never to get drunk at family events although there's a situation that screams for alcohol. Eventually a relative will die and you will need to face those people you called monkey cretins last Christmas even though there were strong and legitimate reasons for doing so. You just can't remember what they were. I encourage blackouts, we all need little vacations from ourselves.
I'm attending the 75th birthday party of my aunt hosted by her daughter and I have not seen my cousin in thirty-two years. There is no whiskey in their kitchen cupboards, I just know it and I pour a large goblet of something red and dark that tastes mossy.
Big Dave looks awkward with his meaty paw wrapped around a delicate wine glass but all the beer cans in the fridge have some body's name on them, not his.
I grab a paper plate with jack-o-lanterns on it and step up to the worst buffet ever. A pot full of scary-looking sausages in a dark dingy sauce that made me cough, hard toast triangles covered with bottled salsa, a store-bought cake with a plastic 75 number offset and lopsided and two slabs of cream cheese with peppery jelly slathered all over. The fresh vegetables with raspberry spicy dressing was the contribution of moi, thank you very much and I win the buffet contest.
Cuz invites me out on the porch on the swing and I hesitate because I prefer my anonymous position in the back of the room but what can I do. We swig wine and talk about many things and I start to realize we have some ideas in common like women getting screwed in the workplace, husbands who are too visible, the endless creativity of our children and how much we really, really like being in this family. Dave comes out and so does her boyfriend and we growl, "go away, girl talk going on here."
After awhile we go back to the living room and the boyfriend is strumming his guitar and he's not half bad with his little folksy riffs and Big Dave starts talking about window screens for some reason. And then some guy mentions he washed his screens that afternoon and the droplets on the mesh reminded him of key punch cards, whoa, deep or what.
There is not enough wine in this humble home to get me interested in that conversation and it is time to leave so I start hugging people. Yes, I will hug on occasion because it gets you out the door quicker.
I'm attending the 75th birthday party of my aunt hosted by her daughter and I have not seen my cousin in thirty-two years. There is no whiskey in their kitchen cupboards, I just know it and I pour a large goblet of something red and dark that tastes mossy.
Big Dave looks awkward with his meaty paw wrapped around a delicate wine glass but all the beer cans in the fridge have some body's name on them, not his.
I grab a paper plate with jack-o-lanterns on it and step up to the worst buffet ever. A pot full of scary-looking sausages in a dark dingy sauce that made me cough, hard toast triangles covered with bottled salsa, a store-bought cake with a plastic 75 number offset and lopsided and two slabs of cream cheese with peppery jelly slathered all over. The fresh vegetables with raspberry spicy dressing was the contribution of moi, thank you very much and I win the buffet contest.
Cuz invites me out on the porch on the swing and I hesitate because I prefer my anonymous position in the back of the room but what can I do. We swig wine and talk about many things and I start to realize we have some ideas in common like women getting screwed in the workplace, husbands who are too visible, the endless creativity of our children and how much we really, really like being in this family. Dave comes out and so does her boyfriend and we growl, "go away, girl talk going on here."
After awhile we go back to the living room and the boyfriend is strumming his guitar and he's not half bad with his little folksy riffs and Big Dave starts talking about window screens for some reason. And then some guy mentions he washed his screens that afternoon and the droplets on the mesh reminded him of key punch cards, whoa, deep or what.
There is not enough wine in this humble home to get me interested in that conversation and it is time to leave so I start hugging people. Yes, I will hug on occasion because it gets you out the door quicker.
2 comments:
hugging is forbidden, unless it gets you out the door....
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