I hate people who come unannounced; one nice woman and a “lady” with two kids, a boy and a girl. They are here, during lunch time, with hunger in their belly. I only cooked for two, my wife and I.
The coveted bottle of wine who took me one hour to select is gone in a second for this unwanted company. My wine glass is empty and I expected to drink at least two glases.
The kids are poorly behaved and that’s the word; poorly behaved. While away for a few minutes the boy, a 10 years old monster, starts to upload one of his CD game in my computer.
My computer goes in shock and freezes. I want to explode!
Then prince hyper-mood wants to watch one of his movies.
WTF? Do these kids travel from one place to another with their collection of games and movies?
Not only that, he is walking, with his shoes, all over the bed in my TV room; my resting place, the place I like to lounge when I watch my TV.
I cooked an oven roasted chicken stuffed with rosemary, roasted potatoes and French beans with garlic and butter. I only steal a small helping for my plate and go eat it in front of my computer.
My wife comes to me and apologizes for her friend’s sudden visit.
“Don’t worry, I understand.” I am lying, I don’t understand, I am fuming and just being polite!
I dreamed of making a salad with the left over chicken. All is left is the carcass!
I am still hungry and make a point, visibly making a statement, of taking a piece of cheese from the fridge and a slice of bread. I cannot wait for Madame with her monsters to leave. I am MISERABLE!
I look at the little girl with her “I want to be notice” look. I have not time to give this type of attention to 8 years old I will bawl if my son has her as a girl friend. Her mother needs rehab for making brats out of her kids.
I have only once been to Mama Brats’ house. She does not gossip, she connives and I hate that. Her ethic is like a never washed ass thermometer. She screams fake phony “I blind you” chic. The other looks nice and classy.
I need another glass of wine. I don’t care; I need to drink her presence away. If she only knew she would dash out like a road runner.
Hypocrite me is artistically polite and do not offer any chit-chat and totally ignores her, wine is my escape until she leaves.
The clock is slow; it seems on a stand still. What have I done!
I can’t run away. I live here, that’s my house.
I hear faint voices. I listen and don’t move. All the women are in the bathroom, three grown ups in a bathroom where I don’t even fit. Ladies love bathrooms, don’t ask me why?
That’s my move. Glass in hand I dash to the dining room and help myself to more booze. I don’t give a damn! I take a whole bottle and the cork-screw and will not share this one. I thieve with no guilt what is mine and go back to my computer.
Brat boy tires of watching his movie. Now, I can hear a loud football game from the TV room.
Brat girl quirky voice goes up one pitch. She likes my wife shoes and laugh. My wife wants to go out with them to buy ice cream. I hope she takes the crew with her.
Like warding off vampires I cross my fingers and scream; don’t come back, don’t come back!
Ring… ring. That’s the door bell. Noooo! Another woman with a borrowed baby, I hope my wife comes back fast. I have tears in my eyes.
This is how I spent last Sunday.