NaNoWriMo Story
Word Count: 28,771
Goal: 34,000
Chapter 10
My introduction to Allison's house mate is, shall we say, memorable. We arrive at her apartment, and as soon as we open the door to enter, her house mate calls out to her, “Why can't my parents be divorced like everyone else's?”
This is an unusual question, and a most unexpected thing to hear upon meeting someone. Of course, she does not realize that Allison has company, since you cannot see the front door from the living room. There is a small turn in the hallway.
We come around the corner, and the house mate is quite surprised to see me. Actually, she is blushing to a deep crimson shade. Allison is making a great effort to keep from laughing. “Suzanne, this is William,” she explains. “He is a, um, friend that I met recently.”
Suzanne is a nice enough looking woman. She has short, blond hair, and a round face. I would not call her fat, but she is a bit to the roundish side of average. She is not a head turner, but she is cute in her own way.
More noticeable is that she is surrounded by brochures and folders which seem to be information about various restaurants and banquet halls. A few feet away are stacks of information which seem to concern flower arrangers.
“You seem to be in danger of drowning in brochures,” I observe.
She looks up with a sigh. “Tell me about it. I have to plan my parents' fiftieth wedding anniversary. I offered to take care of it for them as a gift, but, holy crap, there is so much to do.” She picks up a pile of brochures. “I have to pick a banquet hall, and there should be flowers, and a caterer. Then we need invitations, and I need to get the invitations out to everyone.” She throws down the brochures. “I just don't know where to start. You are right, I really am drowning here.”
This all makes sense to me. Events, venues, programing, catering. All of this is familiar to me. There is an order to it, a flow. First you determine the needs of the event, then find a venue to match those needs. Looking at the venue, find event details which will fill out the event better. Many of the details are really just not important, although they may seem so.
I have done this before. This is not just that irrelevant data which keeps coming to my mind. This is experience.
I sit down on the floor facing Suzanne. I start feeling a rush from the planning process, even though I am not involved in it. The rest falls away.
Reaching for the brochures, I ask, “May I?”
Suzanne waves her hands. “Be my guest.”
I take the brochures and look through them briefly. As I take in the information, I ask, “So, how many people are coming to this?”
“Um, I don't know,” she sputters.
I stop looking through the brochures and look up at her. “Um, okay, I think we need to start with the basics here. Tell me about the event. Just the basics.”
Allison puts her hand on my shoulder. “So, I suppose you are getting along well. I'm going to go make some tea.”
I look up at her, snapped out of my reverie. “Oh, I'm sorry. I seem to be into this event planning thing.”
She smiles. “I can see that. I'm glad to see that you are finding something that you enjoy.” She leans down and kisses me on the forehead. “I'll go make that tea. You two have fun playing with events.”
She heads out towards the kitchen. I smile embarrassed at Suzanne. “I seem to get a little carried away with this kind of thing.”
“Seem to?” she asks.
“Well, it's a funny story you see.” She looks a bit perplexed, so I continue. “You see, I woke up this morning with no memory. Allison was good enough to drive me to the hospital, and she has been taking me here and there all day.”
Suzanne gives me a conspiratorial wink. “Well, you two seem to have hit it off pretty well.”
I glance towards the kitchen without thinking about it. “I suppose we have. It certainly has not been a bad day, I'll say that.”
“I'm glad to hear it,” Suzanne confides. “Allison could use a nice guy, and you certainly seem nice enough.”
“I like to think so. Of course, I can't be sure, but I certainly feel nice. Really the best proof that I can come up with is that a bad guy would not be allowed to wear such a jaunty hat as I have.”
Suzanne laughs. I guess that the intuitive belief that only good people get to wear nifty hats is not terribly widespread. Actually, it is a pretty absurd idea, now that I think about it.
Goal: 34,000
Chapter 10
My introduction to Allison's house mate is, shall we say, memorable. We arrive at her apartment, and as soon as we open the door to enter, her house mate calls out to her, “Why can't my parents be divorced like everyone else's?”
This is an unusual question, and a most unexpected thing to hear upon meeting someone. Of course, she does not realize that Allison has company, since you cannot see the front door from the living room. There is a small turn in the hallway.
We come around the corner, and the house mate is quite surprised to see me. Actually, she is blushing to a deep crimson shade. Allison is making a great effort to keep from laughing. “Suzanne, this is William,” she explains. “He is a, um, friend that I met recently.”
Suzanne is a nice enough looking woman. She has short, blond hair, and a round face. I would not call her fat, but she is a bit to the roundish side of average. She is not a head turner, but she is cute in her own way.
More noticeable is that she is surrounded by brochures and folders which seem to be information about various restaurants and banquet halls. A few feet away are stacks of information which seem to concern flower arrangers.
“You seem to be in danger of drowning in brochures,” I observe.
She looks up with a sigh. “Tell me about it. I have to plan my parents' fiftieth wedding anniversary. I offered to take care of it for them as a gift, but, holy crap, there is so much to do.” She picks up a pile of brochures. “I have to pick a banquet hall, and there should be flowers, and a caterer. Then we need invitations, and I need to get the invitations out to everyone.” She throws down the brochures. “I just don't know where to start. You are right, I really am drowning here.”
This all makes sense to me. Events, venues, programing, catering. All of this is familiar to me. There is an order to it, a flow. First you determine the needs of the event, then find a venue to match those needs. Looking at the venue, find event details which will fill out the event better. Many of the details are really just not important, although they may seem so.
I have done this before. This is not just that irrelevant data which keeps coming to my mind. This is experience.
I sit down on the floor facing Suzanne. I start feeling a rush from the planning process, even though I am not involved in it. The rest falls away.
Reaching for the brochures, I ask, “May I?”
Suzanne waves her hands. “Be my guest.”
I take the brochures and look through them briefly. As I take in the information, I ask, “So, how many people are coming to this?”
“Um, I don't know,” she sputters.
I stop looking through the brochures and look up at her. “Um, okay, I think we need to start with the basics here. Tell me about the event. Just the basics.”
Allison puts her hand on my shoulder. “So, I suppose you are getting along well. I'm going to go make some tea.”
I look up at her, snapped out of my reverie. “Oh, I'm sorry. I seem to be into this event planning thing.”
She smiles. “I can see that. I'm glad to see that you are finding something that you enjoy.” She leans down and kisses me on the forehead. “I'll go make that tea. You two have fun playing with events.”
She heads out towards the kitchen. I smile embarrassed at Suzanne. “I seem to get a little carried away with this kind of thing.”
“Seem to?” she asks.
“Well, it's a funny story you see.” She looks a bit perplexed, so I continue. “You see, I woke up this morning with no memory. Allison was good enough to drive me to the hospital, and she has been taking me here and there all day.”
Suzanne gives me a conspiratorial wink. “Well, you two seem to have hit it off pretty well.”
I glance towards the kitchen without thinking about it. “I suppose we have. It certainly has not been a bad day, I'll say that.”
“I'm glad to hear it,” Suzanne confides. “Allison could use a nice guy, and you certainly seem nice enough.”
“I like to think so. Of course, I can't be sure, but I certainly feel nice. Really the best proof that I can come up with is that a bad guy would not be allowed to wear such a jaunty hat as I have.”
Suzanne laughs. I guess that the intuitive belief that only good people get to wear nifty hats is not terribly widespread. Actually, it is a pretty absurd idea, now that I think about it.