(no subject)
Today was my grandmother's annual Christmas party... They invite about twenty people over and they all get drunk and party hardXore. I always help serve because my grandmother pays me really well for it, and it's an easy job. This year I participated in the grab bag. (For those of you who have never had the mediocre fortune to participate in this holiday tradition: Everyone at the party brings a wrapped gift with no name on it. Then everyone draws a number. Number 1 selects a gift and unwraps it; then Number 2 selects a gift, unwraps it, and can either keep the gift that he's chosen or trade for someone else's gift. This goes on until everyone has chosen a gift; then the second-to-last number has another chance to trade with someone else, then the third-to-last, and so on.) This year's grab bag was one of the single most hilarious and one of the single most traumatising experiences of my young life. Keep in mind that all of these people are over seventy years old.
My grandmother (speaking about Old Man 1's gift): Open it up and take it out.
Old Man 1: If you insist. Begins to unbutton his pants.
Old Man 2: Sits in Old Man 3's lap as he unwraps his present.
Old Woman 1: Why are you sitting in his lap?
Old Man 2: Because I like him.
Old Man 3: Wiggles his eyebrows.
Old Woman 2: Okay, I'm trading you for that wine.
Old Man 4: Lush! You're a lush!
Old Woman 2: No, I'm a wino.
Old Man 5: Stands directly in front of Old Man 6.
Old Man 6: Are you trading your present?
Old Man 5: No.
Old Man 6: Are you keeping your present?
Old Man 5: Yes.
Old Man 6: THEN GET THE HELL OUT OF THE WAY!
Old Woman 3 is married to Old Man 7.
Old Woman 3: Trade your chocolates for that Santa Clause figurine.
Old Man 7: I don't want to, Honey.
Old Woman 3: But I want you to. It's a nice Santa.
Old Man 7: But I'm hungry. I want the chocolate.
This argument goes on for several more minutes, and Old Man 7 finally snaps.
Old Man 7: YOU KNOW WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN? I'M GOING TO TRADE FOR THE DAMNED SANTA, AND THEN IN TWO MINUTES SOMEONE'S GOING TO TRADE ME FOR IT AND I'M GONNA WIND UP WITH A GODDAMNED NAPKIN HOLDER! I AM KEEPING MY CHOCOLATES, WOMAN!
And you thought that old people were mild-mannered.
My grandmother (speaking about Old Man 1's gift): Open it up and take it out.
Old Man 1: If you insist. Begins to unbutton his pants.
Old Man 2: Sits in Old Man 3's lap as he unwraps his present.
Old Woman 1: Why are you sitting in his lap?
Old Man 2: Because I like him.
Old Man 3: Wiggles his eyebrows.
Old Woman 2: Okay, I'm trading you for that wine.
Old Man 4: Lush! You're a lush!
Old Woman 2: No, I'm a wino.
Old Man 5: Stands directly in front of Old Man 6.
Old Man 6: Are you trading your present?
Old Man 5: No.
Old Man 6: Are you keeping your present?
Old Man 5: Yes.
Old Man 6: THEN GET THE HELL OUT OF THE WAY!
Old Woman 3 is married to Old Man 7.
Old Woman 3: Trade your chocolates for that Santa Clause figurine.
Old Man 7: I don't want to, Honey.
Old Woman 3: But I want you to. It's a nice Santa.
Old Man 7: But I'm hungry. I want the chocolate.
This argument goes on for several more minutes, and Old Man 7 finally snaps.
Old Man 7: YOU KNOW WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN? I'M GOING TO TRADE FOR THE DAMNED SANTA, AND THEN IN TWO MINUTES SOMEONE'S GOING TO TRADE ME FOR IT AND I'M GONNA WIND UP WITH A GODDAMNED NAPKIN HOLDER! I AM KEEPING MY CHOCOLATES, WOMAN!
And you thought that old people were mild-mannered.