--And we’re back.I
hope you guys had/are having a wonderful holiday.I’d rate ours as nice,
I guess.There was a lot
of stress up-front, and I was convinced (convinced!) the Secrets
weren’t getting enough loot.But
that just goes with the territory, right?
As it turned out, the boys seemed to have a great time and weren’t
disappointed at all.Toney
told me everything would turn out fine, that the Secrets were
getting a ridiculous number of gifts, and she was right, of course.
I just always panic at the last minute and want to rush out and buy
the kids one more
thing.And Toney has to press a wet cloth to my forehead, hand me a
Samuel Adams Winter Lager, and talk me down.
It’s a Christmastime tradition here at the Compound.
The day my parents arrived was especially hectic.We’d spent the previous 24 hours running around like mental
patients, dusting and cleaning and making the house as close to
spotless as it will ever be.
My Mom and Dad have a home like a freakin’ museum, you see, and
we’re always paranoid they’ll think we live like straight-up
holler trash, because there are crumbs in the bottom of the toaster,
or whatever.
So that was no fun.And
I still had presents to buy and wrap, and all that crapola.The four of us went to lunch at Five Guys around
noon. Then I ventured off on my own, in a sad attempt to get my
chores completed.
And man, I was on-edge all day long.Everything was getting on my nerves, and the gears were
locked in the bitching position.In fact, there was almost an incident
at the restaurant.
The place was packed, for one thing, and we had to wait in line
while the cashier took orders at a leisurely pace, and while the
customers acted like they were deciding on which options they wanted
on their new Cadillac.I
felt like screaming, “It’s lettuce, bitches!Lettuce!!This
doesn’t require an emergency meeting of the Joint Chiefs of
Staff.”
So that irritated me.And
there was some old lady in there wearing a Santa hat, believing she
was just as cute as shit.She
was also sporting a sweater with a winter scene on the front, which
featured moving parts and a soundtrack, I think.I didn’t want to be the one responsible for making it
happen, but I desperately longed for her to slip on something and fall
down.
While we were waiting on our food to be prepared, I went into the
baffroom to let loose some scalding-hot liquid.And the music was so loud I almost assumed an involuntary
duck-and-cover position beneath the sink.
It was classic rock (“Barracuda,” to be exact), and it was
blasting at full StaplesCentervolume.I hadn’t noticed it as being overly loud in the restaurant
proper, but inside that shitter my head snapped forward like I was
peeing in the John Wilkes Memorial Booth.Sweet Jesus!
And there was some teenage hipster girl, with a shoulder bag across
her body, who simply wouldn’t remain in her seat.She was just constantly up and down:getting extra napkins, more ketchup, a soda refill…She was making me crazy.The chick was like a human version of a housefly, in a
Slipknot t-shirt with the neck ripped out.
Plus, there was an old lady who looked like Carol Channing, rubbing
her presumed granddaughter’s back like some sort of water-driven
child-rubbing machine.Just
a continuous circular motion on the little girl’s back,
perpetually and with no fluctuations in speed.I tried to look away, but couldn’t.
And seated next to us was an asshole with some brand of northern
accent that irritated me to the bone.I don’t know if it was Philadelphia, or
New Jersey, or what.But he was causing me to clench-up, with all his hand-waving
and his nonchalant attitude...
He kept telling everyone he’d called his order in ahead of time,
and that’s why he and his family were already eating.He wanted everyone to know about this, while at the same time
acting like it was no big deal.You know the type…
I started saying, a little too loudly, “Boys, today we’re in the
presence of a great, great man.He ordered hamburgers over a telephone!”
And the guy’s wife apparently heard me, and understood what I was
doing.Our eyes locked
for a tense couple of seconds, while she decided how to proceed.Then she dropped it, and I figured I’d better shut it down,
as well.A streetfight with some guy from Brooklyn, or whatever, probably
wouldn’t be in my best interest.
When our food was (finally!) ready, all the mustard and ketchup was
on one side of the burger.There
was an uneven distribution of condiments, the worst I’ve ever
encountered.And there
was nothing to do but complain about it...No way I was sending it back, and throwing myself into that
cheeseburger purgatory again.
Following our meal, Toney seemed almost
happy to see me go off on my
own.I don’t know what
that was about…After
all, holidays are a time for family.Am I wrong?
How was your Christmas?Use
the comments link to tell us about it, won’t you?What was your favorite gift?Who got on your nerves?Were
there any arrests?Let’s
hear all about it.
And I’ll give you more details about our winter
holiday tomorrow.
