that's entertainment I don't have to pay for
ALERT ALERT ALERT HOLY SHIT ALERT
So, I'm in this new apartment, right? And the landlady is Jean, a woman I used to work with. And god bless her, she keeps me up-to-date with all the gossip and everything.
But most importantly, a couple of months ago, she came to me with this:
Jean: I don't think the department's going to have a Christmas party this year.
Me: Aww... that's too bad.
Jean: Maybe we can have one here ... with just the people we like!
Me: That's a great idea!
Jean: We'd have to have it up here, in your apartment, though -- you have more room.
So that was settled. We created a guest list -- including Brad and Uncle Jean, Johnny O, Steve James Of the Fan, et cetera -- and sent out invitations. I ran into Uncle Jean tonight, and he said that he and Aunt Amy were planning on coming. Huzzah!
NOT TEN MINUTES AGO, Jean E. left my apartment after telling me this:
Jean: I ran into Brad today, and he's coming.
Me: He told you, with actual words, that he will be attending?
Jean: Do you know what he said to me? He said, "I didn't know spouses were invited."
Me: [I drop my pen] Jean -- don't -- don't tease me about that.
Jean: So I said, "Of course! Are we finally going to meet Sarah?"
Me: DON'T TEASE ME ABOUT THIS, JEAN!!
Jean: And he said, "Well, Tuesday's not usually a good night for her, but maybe she can come up later." And I said, "Well it's about time, you've only been with her for" --
Me: HE'S BEEN WITH HER FOR TEN YEARS AND NO ONE HAS EVER SEEN THIS WOMAN AND NOW SHE MIGHT BE COMING TO OUR PARTY!?! HOLY SHIT!!
HOLY SHIT I CAN'T EVEN -- I CAN'T EVEN! And trust me, IF she shows up, I'm not going to act like a freaked out maniac who got Christmas early and just point and go "WE DIDN'T THINK YOU WERE REAL!" I'm going to be polite and act like I would when I'm meeting anyone for the first time: very nicely, take her coat, and then rifle through her pockets looking for proof of identification when her back is turned and offer her a warm beverage. I'm certainly not going to needle her about Brad to prove that they have, in fact, been dating for almost a decade and not had a story fed to her in the car because he needed a woman to show up at this party and make it seem like she's his girlfriend.
But when they leave and are out of earshot? OH MY GOD THE SCREAMING IN JOY.
(I mean, let's take the rose-colored glasses of for a second and be realistic; he's just saying that he's inviting her and that she could be coming to the party to make us all think that maybe, for a brief shining moment, he was considering introducing his Imaginary Girlfriend to us. But when December 11 rolls around and he shows up alone, the reason is going to be because she has a case in Boston, or it's book club night [WHICH IS A LIE BECAUSE ACCORDING TO YOU HER BOOK CLUB NIGHT IS MONDAY, PWND], or she had to wash her hair or SOMETHING but REGARDLESS, SHE IS IMAGINARY AND THEREFORE WILL NOT BE HERE.)
*clasps hands and looks heavenward* Oh please, Santa, please -- I've been ever so good.
[Thank god we're not having the party on the 21st. #signoftheapocalypse]
So, I'm in this new apartment, right? And the landlady is Jean, a woman I used to work with. And god bless her, she keeps me up-to-date with all the gossip and everything.
But most importantly, a couple of months ago, she came to me with this:
Jean: I don't think the department's going to have a Christmas party this year.
Me: Aww... that's too bad.
Jean: Maybe we can have one here ... with just the people we like!
Me: That's a great idea!
Jean: We'd have to have it up here, in your apartment, though -- you have more room.
So that was settled. We created a guest list -- including Brad and Uncle Jean, Johnny O, Steve James Of the Fan, et cetera -- and sent out invitations. I ran into Uncle Jean tonight, and he said that he and Aunt Amy were planning on coming. Huzzah!
NOT TEN MINUTES AGO, Jean E. left my apartment after telling me this:
Jean: I ran into Brad today, and he's coming.
Me: He told you, with actual words, that he will be attending?
Jean: Do you know what he said to me? He said, "I didn't know spouses were invited."
Me: [I drop my pen] Jean -- don't -- don't tease me about that.
Jean: So I said, "Of course! Are we finally going to meet Sarah?"
Me: DON'T TEASE ME ABOUT THIS, JEAN!!
Jean: And he said, "Well, Tuesday's not usually a good night for her, but maybe she can come up later." And I said, "Well it's about time, you've only been with her for" --
Me: HE'S BEEN WITH HER FOR TEN YEARS AND NO ONE HAS EVER SEEN THIS WOMAN AND NOW SHE MIGHT BE COMING TO OUR PARTY!?! HOLY SHIT!!
HOLY SHIT I CAN'T EVEN -- I CAN'T EVEN! And trust me, IF she shows up, I'm not going to act like a freaked out maniac who got Christmas early and just point and go "WE DIDN'T THINK YOU WERE REAL!" I'm going to be polite and act like I would when I'm meeting anyone for the first time: very nicely, take her coat, and then rifle through her pockets looking for proof of identification when her back is turned and offer her a warm beverage. I'm certainly not going to needle her about Brad to prove that they have, in fact, been dating for almost a decade and not had a story fed to her in the car because he needed a woman to show up at this party and make it seem like she's his girlfriend.
But when they leave and are out of earshot? OH MY GOD THE SCREAMING IN JOY.
(I mean, let's take the rose-colored glasses of for a second and be realistic; he's just saying that he's inviting her and that she could be coming to the party to make us all think that maybe, for a brief shining moment, he was considering introducing his Imaginary Girlfriend to us. But when December 11 rolls around and he shows up alone, the reason is going to be because she has a case in Boston, or it's book club night [WHICH IS A LIE BECAUSE ACCORDING TO YOU HER BOOK CLUB NIGHT IS MONDAY, PWND], or she had to wash her hair or SOMETHING but REGARDLESS, SHE IS IMAGINARY AND THEREFORE WILL NOT BE HERE.)
*clasps hands and looks heavenward* Oh please, Santa, please -- I've been ever so good.
[Thank god we're not having the party on the 21st. #signoftheapocalypse]