The excitment has been building all week. The first e-mail came. Friday night, it said. Oh my, could this be true? The coldest day of the year (-48 with the windchill) and we were going out. No, not with that man but with my neighboring women on the block as well as the hired help. And they wanted ME to come too! I got my hair cut. Then I got it cut again. Then again this morning the scissors were happily cutting away the last of my curls that made me so uncool.
Come to think of it, now I look like a cancer patient after her hair starts to grow back.
I searched my closet for the right thing to wear. It couldn’t be something that looks like I spent an hour looking for it. It has to be casual and cool but warm and not old lady. It would have helped if I had been doing the laundry for the last 2 weeks. And my kid is too little and seems to have stolen my socks. I went without socks, but, true to my space, I did find the right underwear and it was happy.
After getting several emails today with changes to the plan I was rather confused. All I knew was not to go to the "middle house" (see my other blogs) and to arrive somewhere on the street for 6:50 pm. I left the house, clutching a scarf around my face to keep the bitter cold from invading my lungs. The wind could not possibly mess my hair.
By the way, that scarf? It would come in handy later on in the evening.
I arrived at the wrong house, of course. The husband of the house just pointed down the street with his mouth as so many people do. I sheepishly ran past the oversized snowman (not the husband, he is big but not a snowman) and back out onto the sidewalk and continued my journey down the avenue of Trent. Carefully avoiding the middle house I went to the back of jelly’s (not her real name but I’m sure she has some). More confusion met me as Jam opened the door (not her real name either but I know she has some of that too). This was not her house but she let me in, and out of that bitter cold night.
We all talked for a bit until our driver arrived. I was told to get in the car and relax. I recognized the driver as jam’s husband, the owner and operator of the giant snowman. This added to my confusion (of course). Not sure why we went to one house when the other house was coming to get us. Well, not literally the house of course but you know what I mean. Who am I to ask questions? We were getting a free ride in a vehicle that smelled rather lovely. We stopped to get Carla (her real name because I cannot remember her code name at the moment) who squished me up against Jelly. The person not the condiment thank god or there goes my real fake fur.
Entering Kelsey’s was like going to Cheers or sumfin. There’s a waitress who knows us. Well, not me but Jelly and her red shoes. Even when she is red shoeless as she was tonight. We actually got our usual table; Arnie grins down at us. And not the now out of shape politician Arnie but the Terminator, unshaven, muscle bound hound. We were happy with that untill we noticed the booth next to us had Drew. Now, I would do Drew in a second just because she is so cool and pretty and I bet she smells good. Turns out most of us feel the same way. Except for Jelly; she is in denial or maybe likes burnettes better? No, just not in touch with her masculine side.
We had quite the waitress, I tell you. Her name was Val (her real waitress name, it was on her name tag and everything) and she seemed rather distant, not like the waitresses we were used to. We worked hard at winning her over, mostly by screaming her name across the establishment until the other patrons would look at us. Do you think she did? Not at first. Until I explained to her that we were calling her very loudly because we didn’t like empty glasses. She got better of keeping her eye on us and booze on the table.
Not long after we got there, good ol’ Val was smiling. She looked happy to be with us. I think she wanted to stay with us and ignore all the other tables.
Throughout our waitress-training, we ate and drank until we could be bursted. Yes bursted. I like that word bursted. So all you grammer queens don’t bother pointing out that word as a typo because I did it on purpose.
Okay now back to Drew. You know Carla? Well I do. We are trying to convice her to bleach her dyed black hair and put on pouty lipstick and pose like Drew. She just might if we can get a couple more margarita’s into her.
we finally slowed down after the dessert order (I ordered a spoon, I think that was the final thing that won over our Val). We were full, no one threw up and had a pleasant buzz happening. I yelled for Val and she and I went to Debit Island so I could pay. I gave her a pretty good tip and that put us over the top I think. She came back to the table and chatted. I think jam is still gushing about her comment about us being like in high school. I guess we were a motley crew. Me, I’m told I look like a sunday school teacher and have a mouth like a sailor (my dad WAS in the navy), Jam’s hair isn’t pink or blue right now but she sure looks like she usually has pink or blue in her hair and has matching face jewlery, Carla with her heavy framed glasses (I don’t even think they are prescription) tattoos and black hair with blond roots and then there is our Jelly. She is the one who keeps us all together and blushes and hides when we act like high schoolers. She had a lovely frock on this evening though. She is the one who has now named me earl hi jean because she made the most amazing freudian slip. I never did find out what she was actually trying to say because I was laughing so hard I may have missed it while trying not to pee in my carefully selected pants. So we all kinda work and I sure love being included in the outings. We laugh so hard. Oh and Jam has tattoos too. She would be mad if I left that out.
Okay, I bet you were wondering about the scarf. No nothing wierd although the Black and Blue Ball did come up in conversation for a good 10 minutes. No. The scarf, my hair gel, my mitts and Carla’s smokes all went a long way to keep us alive on the cab ride home.
Now. I could write a whole blog on the cab ride alone. Its a short ride, which is good. It was not short enough. First of all it was a Duffy’s so it was one of those tiny cars where your knees are rubbing on the driver’s backside. Not my knees but Carla’s knees. Poor thing. She got the worst of it. Oy I go on and on. As I was saying we were racing to the car to make sure none of us would sit by the driver. Jelly got to sit with him while Carla, Jam and me crowed into the back seat. It wasn’t long when I realized something was terribly wrong. At first I thought it was the wings Jam was bringing home for the husband. It was getting worse; this smell, this aroma, this disgusting stench! I choked back jack daniel-coated wings I had at supper and tried desperately to breath and cry for help. All I could hear around me were similar sounds of gagging mixed with hysterical giggling. We in the back seat were now surrounded with this most incredible smell. It was so awful! I have no words to describe it. My scarf worked for a short time but I needed more coverage. I went for my mitts. Better. Poor Jam was almost hyperventilating. She got better after burying her face in my hair. Good hair products today good thing. Carla’s scarf was good too as it was filled with the smell of cigarettes. Oh the sweet smell of the tobacco sure beat the foul air of Duffy’s that night.
We dropped off Carla, with jam and I lunging for the open door with it’s frigid fresh air. This only seemed to bring us closer to the driver who seemed to be the source of the incredible odor. Sadly, the door closed way too fast. We were off again to our lovely avenue and our homes that actually smell really good. As soon I got out of the car I went to Jam and simply asked, flatuence? She was gasping and laughing at the same time and explained she always smelled that at her grandfathers and it was like old man farts. I think, really there was a dead body in there or maybe part of one. It was really bad!
I am waiting for some pictures to come from Jelly. She has a camera phone and took a couple pictures and I want to post them on the blog. When they arrive you will see some of the evening. You won’t see the cab ride. The lens clouded up.