Dinner with P. (rather than an election post)
Rather than an election post. And shouldn't someone do me an icon? Hee.
One of these stories may have been told, already.
It was K's birthday last weekend, and since she turned 40, and since she's in remission from melanoma, P. arranged for us to go to a steak house in Ford City, Alabama. We--S., J., who are in the regular Lunch Bunch, and J's
husband D., followed P. and K's boss and his wife to the steak house.
P: "This used to be just a crossroads. Yonder is the bus stop where K and I used to sneak cigarettes. Did I ever tell you about the time we were smokin' and we decided to steal Nanny's cigarettes? We waited until Pop and Nanny were asleep and K. crawled in on her hands and knees and reached for the pack on the night table. We didn't know that Nanny was awake, and she sat up in bed and went "Rahr!" And K. just went, "oh" and fainted! Nanny jumped outta bed and nearly brained her ownself on the lamp, yellin' "I've killed her!" and we had to throw water on K. Then Nanny said, "Girls, take 'em, you
earned 'em." Pop slept through it all."
On the way there, we were talking about a candidate for Court of Appeals who not only had himself photographed with known white supremicists, but handed out miniature Confederate flags at someone's funeral. He said that he felt he needed to do it since X, the deceased was a Confederate soldier. I screamed, "He had to be two hundred years old, then!"
So when D. met Pop for the first time, we were commenting on Pop's muttonchop whiskers. S. said, "They're kinda out of style," and J. screamed, "You think?" And I said, "Maybe he's a Confederate soldier."
There were 35 people there at tables in a U, and P. sat with us, the strangers amongst the kinfolk. B. and her boys were at my other side. Before K. got there, we had our iced tea and drinks, and D. said, "Neese, hand me a couple o' Sweet 'n' Lows, please ma'am?" and his wife nudged me and said, "Well, we could hand him our boobs," and we laughed so hard that
D. knocked over P's tea glass. She jumped up so quickly that she didn't get
wet, and that got Pop's attention. "What's goin' on, Po?"[which is not her name or anywhere near it--he calls her that because she's po'.] "Nuthin', Pop."
Then for some weird reason they were talking about the Lorena Bobbitt-copy cat and P. said to me, "How'd you like to be the one goin' down the road and
have that land on your windshield? Like to see that accident
report in court." This led to S. talking about when she worked for a divorce judge and one attorney repeatedly talked about the other side's use of a "Bilbo", which led to Baggins jokes.
S, earnestly: "No, there really was testimony about a dildo in court---it was a real big thing." [Meaning big deal.]
Me: "Well, who the hell'd buy a small one?"
This time P. spit tea on me.
Then P. talked about her daughter. P. and her husband separated when her daughter was a toddler, and the husband was killed in a car accident. P. dated another guy for years, who died this summer. Barbie,
P's daughter, always bugged her about L., if L. was her "real father".
P: "So then we ran into L's daughter at the mall, and Barbie just stared and stared, and as soon as we got into the car, she hit
me and said, 'I always wondered where my nose came from and there it was on her! Don't you tell me I could have had a Daddy all these years and we buried him this summer.' I said, 'Baby, I swear L's not your father, there was no way, Butch was your Daddy."
K: "Like you'd admit it. You'd have to pay back all that Social Security."
Me: "And the accident settlement."
P, raising eyes to heaven: "L. was not---"
And we all winked and nudged each other.
And K's daughter had done a family album, and we strangers got to look at it.
P: "There's Tuck." (Picture of 80's style couple, cheek to cheek.)"And that's the wife who shot him. And see here? Here's Treena."
Me: "God, has she always been wearin' pink track suits."
P: "Pink is her signature color. And that's the guy that shot at her."
Me: "No shit."
P: "He missed and she ran over him with her car."
Me: "This is the best birthday ever! "
One of these stories may have been told, already.
It was K's birthday last weekend, and since she turned 40, and since she's in remission from melanoma, P. arranged for us to go to a steak house in Ford City, Alabama. We--S., J., who are in the regular Lunch Bunch, and J's
husband D., followed P. and K's boss and his wife to the steak house.
P: "This used to be just a crossroads. Yonder is the bus stop where K and I used to sneak cigarettes. Did I ever tell you about the time we were smokin' and we decided to steal Nanny's cigarettes? We waited until Pop and Nanny were asleep and K. crawled in on her hands and knees and reached for the pack on the night table. We didn't know that Nanny was awake, and she sat up in bed and went "Rahr!" And K. just went, "oh" and fainted! Nanny jumped outta bed and nearly brained her ownself on the lamp, yellin' "I've killed her!" and we had to throw water on K. Then Nanny said, "Girls, take 'em, you
earned 'em." Pop slept through it all."
On the way there, we were talking about a candidate for Court of Appeals who not only had himself photographed with known white supremicists, but handed out miniature Confederate flags at someone's funeral. He said that he felt he needed to do it since X, the deceased was a Confederate soldier. I screamed, "He had to be two hundred years old, then!"
So when D. met Pop for the first time, we were commenting on Pop's muttonchop whiskers. S. said, "They're kinda out of style," and J. screamed, "You think?" And I said, "Maybe he's a Confederate soldier."
There were 35 people there at tables in a U, and P. sat with us, the strangers amongst the kinfolk. B. and her boys were at my other side. Before K. got there, we had our iced tea and drinks, and D. said, "Neese, hand me a couple o' Sweet 'n' Lows, please ma'am?" and his wife nudged me and said, "Well, we could hand him our boobs," and we laughed so hard that
D. knocked over P's tea glass. She jumped up so quickly that she didn't get
wet, and that got Pop's attention. "What's goin' on, Po?"[which is not her name or anywhere near it--he calls her that because she's po'.] "Nuthin', Pop."
Then for some weird reason they were talking about the Lorena Bobbitt-copy cat and P. said to me, "How'd you like to be the one goin' down the road and
have that land on your windshield? Like to see that accident
report in court." This led to S. talking about when she worked for a divorce judge and one attorney repeatedly talked about the other side's use of a "Bilbo", which led to Baggins jokes.
S, earnestly: "No, there really was testimony about a dildo in court---it was a real big thing." [Meaning big deal.]
Me: "Well, who the hell'd buy a small one?"
This time P. spit tea on me.
Then P. talked about her daughter. P. and her husband separated when her daughter was a toddler, and the husband was killed in a car accident. P. dated another guy for years, who died this summer. Barbie,
P's daughter, always bugged her about L., if L. was her "real father".
P: "So then we ran into L's daughter at the mall, and Barbie just stared and stared, and as soon as we got into the car, she hit
me and said, 'I always wondered where my nose came from and there it was on her! Don't you tell me I could have had a Daddy all these years and we buried him this summer.' I said, 'Baby, I swear L's not your father, there was no way, Butch was your Daddy."
K: "Like you'd admit it. You'd have to pay back all that Social Security."
Me: "And the accident settlement."
P, raising eyes to heaven: "L. was not---"
And we all winked and nudged each other.
And K's daughter had done a family album, and we strangers got to look at it.
P: "There's Tuck." (Picture of 80's style couple, cheek to cheek.)"And that's the wife who shot him. And see here? Here's Treena."
Me: "God, has she always been wearin' pink track suits."
P: "Pink is her signature color. And that's the guy that shot at her."
Me: "No shit."
P: "He missed and she ran over him with her car."
Me: "This is the best birthday ever! "