Pestilence

If you need any proof, let me point out that the night before my parents were supposed to arrive. A swarm of moths descended upon the front of the house. They stuck to the walls and door in the light rain and hung flapping their decaying wings in desperate unison. The weather turned cold and the little buggers froze to the wall. My son had to go out and sweep their bodies off the front  the house. Never a good sign when the one of the seven signs of the apocolypse starts to manifest a few hours before a parental holiday visit.

Famine

There is no famine here, says the woman who just had chocolate mint cookies for breakfast but forgot to feed her children breakfast. However, weight was a constant topic around the Thanksgiving dinner table. I jest you not, my mother monitors this family’s weight like a demented Mrs. Santa Claus…”Don’t eat..Papa. No one likes a fat Santa.” I swear she is actually happy my ex left me. I somehow gained about six pounds when we were together and have since lost it, and my mother still thinks that my ex was injecting me with creme filling or something while I slept. So paranoid is she, that my mother even announced this morning that she though my ten-year-old son, who basically eats nothing but air, was looking a little “chunky around the jowls.”

Religious Deception and Persecution 

Tuesday night, I went out for the evening. My best buddy, Chris, and I opened the evening at PF. Changs. Our waiter was a skinny little blond thing with a rather elaborate metro sexual tattoo of a Gothic cross. This blushing Irish lad kind of reminded me of an innocent little choir boy..Meow!!..When the young buck started to mix his special secret sauce, he told us proudly, “This is my own special recipe, and you can put it on anything you want.”

“Anything?” I asked innocently.

Chris kicked me hard under the table.

I then proceeded to harass the waiter relentlessly for an extra floater in my drink. A request I am not proud to admit is fairly common practice for me. I am unabashedly cheap and a big supporter of efficiency. More alcohol in a drink means a bigger buzz with less empty juice calories.

This darling boy brought me his choice of drinks which turned out to be a an old lady Manhattan in a giant tankard of a glass. The drink was so strong it had vapors coming off the top. God bless him.

I of course downed the whole thing and preceded to be quite drunk. The best part was when we got our fortune cookies, instead of a proverb of wisdom, we had one word..His said, “Cucumber” in Chinese and English. Mine said “Space Shuttle.”I thought I was behaving rather well, until our waiter asked us where we were going that evening. When we replied, “A bar in Bellingham,” he then politely suggested that we pay our bill and walk to a hotel.  

Well, I’ve been kicked out of worse places than a PF Changs at the local mall, but never by a man of the cross or was that just a cross young man???

Tribulation and Martyrdom

Chris and I then proceeded to a glorious townie bar. The Patriots was located in a strip mall between a burned out video store and a Curves. I happen to love townies and after my rather strong before mentioned Manhattan, I had crushes on everyone in there. I loved townie chicks with their acid wash, high waisted jeans with no pockets in the back. These girls bump and grind their female friends while swollen men in tiny fake Ed hardy shirts and caps that inexplicably still have the merchandise sticker still on the lid drool and slap each other on the back. I loved the slender doll-like long haired men with their overweight big-haired slightly scary girlfriends. These couples always get into harrowing public fights over a spilled drink or a wayward glance and then end up groping each other and tongue wresting like mad on the dance floor in matching Ozzy Osbourne t-shirts. Got to admire the unbridled heat of Tuesday night townie love.

War!!

I have one athletic talent..well, maybe two. But the most obvious and public is my ability to toss a small ping-pong ball into a cup of beer. At my advanced age, I don’t have many opportunities to show off this skill, but when the band hands you a green ping pong ball with their logo on it. Everyone stand back!! Funny thing, I thought the band’s name was Ham, but it turned out to be Glow. I’m not sure exactly what happened..I say Chris spilled a beer on me in a lame arse attempt to at least get in the general vicinity of the cup. Chris, claims I knocked a cup of soda water on myself….Not sure when my friends switched me over to soda water….HMMMMM….  

The end result was that I walked around for the rest of the night like my badder had exploded out my belly button. But thank sweet Jesus..It was a townie bar and no one even batted an eyelash. Full body explosions are just par for the course, I suppose.

So I made it through Thanksgiving, and even though six of the seven signs were definitely there..the Heavens did open up with fire and brimstone..although is did rain quite a bit. Can’t wait what to see what Christmas manifests..maybe an unplanned pregnancy? The second immaculate conception?? We can only wonder and wait…