Friday, August 24, 2007

Sometimes a Lady Just Needs A Drink

Sometimes a lady just needs a drink, and a vacation. Tanya did, and with good reason. See here. This isn't uncommon. There are points in every ones lives when they need a hug, or a cup of coffee, or a slap, or a loan, or a good belt.
I've seen it with my own two eyes, well, not mine really. We have a lease with an option to buy, but Ive seen it nonetheless.
Just this week as a matter of fact. On Wednesday. Wednesday is always a special night for me, as Wednesday is Tiki night and I get together with the neighbors and we have a few laughs. I work on the weekends so Wednesday is my Friday night.
This Wednesday, Flannery brought home several large three wick-candles from her mothers place. I unloaded her trunk and she showed them off as she unpacked them from a heavy box. I had plans on skipping Tiki this week as I was on my second day of being in the dog house.
Yes. I was in trouble for a thoughtless act that I had committed to the one I love the most. I was being treated to monosyllables, grunts, the "stink eye", as well as the ever constant "I'm not lookin' you in the eye, you thoughtless bastard" from across the room. The treats were many and varied, and to try and talk to her on the telephone was even worse.
I was up Sh*t Crick!
Once we got the kids in bed, we settled in to the Lodge and planned our evening.
"I'm going to take these candles over to Tiki" she said.
"O.k." I responded. I find it is best to keep it short when in the dog house. There is a smaller margin of saying something stupid that way. I looked in at 8:30 when I got home. No lights, no music, no one. I thought she would be right back. I had a whole evening planned of groveling until I got back into her good graces again.
Time passed. She didn't come back. I had a beer and read your blog. More time, one more beer. At the crack of the third beer I decided to seek her out.
I found her at the Tiki bar. Take this in mind, Flannery does not drink. She was on her third Budweiser and was airing dirty laundry to John and Meshell.
My story goes like this: On Monday, she and the girls were snuggled in bed watching "Alice in Wonderland" when I said I was going for "cold drinks and S-M-O-K-E-S". This is a euphemism for beer and cigarettes. (We spell it out for the children.) It was 8:15 when I started the Jeep. I went to the gas station a block away and purchased said items. On returning, I was thinking about Franklinton. He is a landscaper by trade and it had been raining hard the whole day. I passed my driveway and pulled in one house down.
I found Frankliton sitting in the dark, drinking, watching more snow than show. (Frank is the only person who sill uses a t.v. antenna and no cable/satellite.) Franklinton seemed really down. He was leaving in the morning at 6 a.m. to drive to one of the Carolina's and set up a golf show. He would fly back, and then return in a few days to tear it down and then drive home, He was bummed, but like most of us, couldn't turn down the work and he wasn't looking forward to it.
So I tried to cheer him up. I had promised Franklinton that I would take him to the Moose Lodge for drinks ages ago and this seemed to be the ideal time to carry through. I took him and we had a drink. After that I blew four dollars on a pitcher of draft beer and two glasses. Franklinton informs me afterwards that he does not drink draft beer, as it gives him a headache. I didn't know this, so I had a pitcher of ice cold Budweiser to myself and Franklinton had another drink while he made snide comments in a hushed tone about the other members. Franklinton will never be a Moose. I watched the clock and waded into the pitcher that I had purchased for two and tried to keep pace with Franklinton's one drink. I managed.
I took the back way home and came through the door and read the clock on the stove as 9:15. Great! I had been gone exactly an hour and the wife and girls would be in the final reel of "Alice in Wonderland". Cool. Stepped out, no harm done. Still here for bedtime.
The problem was, at no point did I mention that a ten to fifteen minute trip would turn into an hour.
I f*cked up.
I arrived at Tiki to hear the last strains of "where the f*ck were you" In a trial of my peers I was found guilty of abandonment and neglect, even though my "helping a friend in need" defence carried a lot of weight with the jury.
I was ruined by her rebuttal. She maintained that it was premeditated because I left three cigarettes and my cell phone at home. The defence countered with "If I'm goin' a block to buy beer and cigarettes, why do I need my phone and smokes?" This point was shouted down by the gallery and I abide by the rule of the court. I f*cked up. I should have said something, but time, don't mention time to me. It is fleeting, and this too shall pass.
The big wrap up includes her calling in sick and staying home so we could hang out and one of my best days ever.
I can be such a dolt at times.


  1. That's the way my life seems to go Doc. Rule #1, the wife is always right. If the wife is perhaps wrong, see rule #1...

  2. Your story has more holes than a pound of swiss cheese, but I'll stay out of it.

  3. Doc, what do you have against Alice in Wonderland anyway? No wonder you were found guilty.

  4. I'm surprised you didn't twig to the old "three-wick candles to Tiki" story earlier. But thanks for reading my blog.

  5. Mrs. Wishy-Washy would note that your paragraphs are also fucked up, but I'll forgive ye.

    As for Elizabeth and her cheese, I'll point out that REAL Swiss cheese, from Switzerland, does not CONTAIN holes.

    And, if it's of any consolation, I'm STILL intermittently in trouble from our 10-minute-trip-for-pizza almost three years ago. These things happen, sometimes.

    Indeed, MY doghouse now is outfitted with running water, cable TV, wallpaper, a library and a recliner I pulled out of the trash, I've been out there for so long. We're supposed to be Sensitive New Age Guys in this era, but too oft it's easy to fall back to our cro-magnon roots.

  6. Hey BO,

    I KNOW REAL Swiss cheese doesn't have holes, but when was the last time YOU'VE seen REAL Swiss cheese in a typical (not trendy/ expensive) American grocery store?

    I know you've read every book in the universe, but don't try to top me on common sense or common knowledge. You'll be disappointed.

  7. A whole pitcher to yourself in an hour. Nice.

  8. Thank you Phil, for changing the subjuct. I wish I had your sense of style.


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