Don’t know what put the idea in my head to spring for, like, a block party. Just felt philanthropic I guess, whatever that is. Yeah, it was right after, on a dare, I opened the door to a pair of very dour-looking deer;
“Our situation is dire”. the one with the horns shared with me, “and maybe… you know…”
I took the hint and gave the buck a modest wad of dough, then threw in another buck for the doe, who ate it on the spot(!) Hmm, times must really be tough. Oh well, too late to tell her “Don’t spend it all in one bar.” They left, thankfully, with a bag of lawn clippings. Something wrong with that sentence, but speaking of lawns, I had the tables set up within an hour…
My main worry was pests, actually. I’ve been bothered by killer B’s from over-C’s. Yes, that’s the ID I got from the County agent:
“That there’s a B from the C of A-zov.” he pronounced, looking worried, and reached out to C’s it on the spot. Now I’m just waiting for the lab, or extradition papers, who knows. One bug down.
“Can’t believe the E’s with which you toss off these little affairs.” ‘H’ was the first to arrive, and brought that nice compliment with him. Maybe to make up for bringing both his X’s(!)
I’d only heard about them from friends, but from the stories, I thought I’d soon understand just Y they were X’s(!) As different as two unrelated peas from different pods, they fascinated me immediately.
One was admittedly big-boned, gruff, and mustached, but the other(!?)
“G’s, where’d U get them I’s?” I thought to ask her but kept silent, whispering instead into ‘H’s ear: “Hey mon, FUNEX?!”
“She ain’t pretty, she jus look that way.” he whispered back. The truth, as I was about to find out.
“F’, (we’ll call her), the ‘fish we can’t believe you threw back in the lake’, was in fact a piranha in sheep’s clothing. Attack, her mantra….just add victims:
“‘I’s here!” ‘I’ announced jovially as he came around the house to the back yard.
“It’s ‘I’ M here’.“ ‘F’ said dismissively to nobody in particular for now. Unfortunately the ‘nobody’ in particular heard her quite well, and, setting his bottle of wine on the table edge gritted through his teeth:
“Oh shit. U R here.” He slid the bottle even closer to his table setting and gripping it like a loose football, made it clear that she wasn’t exactly gonna be the first in line when he popped the cork.
The table gradually filled with characters, variously bold, cursive, and in the case of ‘Y’, who brought the Chianti, most likely italic.
‘Y’ whom I’d never met, radiated a kind of serene charm, warmth and wisdom. Perhaps just radiation, but that was my first impression anyway. ‘H’ asked him right off what was new on his blog:
“Lots. Xanga, y’know… Gotta post every day or they forget you.”, ‘Y’ answered, sounding oddly proud of not being in the awe-inducing ‘Big League’.
“What’s Xanga, anyway?” ‘F’ did ‘dismissive’ and little else. ‘Y’ for his part chose to take the question dead-pan, and explained it all, patiently, closing with:
“It’s like..um..Huffington, only quieter and more civil.”
‘F’, who hadn’t meant to be even a little ambiguous, bared her teeth. Metaphorically, for now.
“I know, duh. I read your crap. ‘Y’s Y’s Words’, what kind of a user-name is that?”
‘H’ came to ‘Y’s defense, as if he needed it:
“I think he’s awesome…he’s amazing…he’s clever…..I’d even go so far as to call him… mediocre!” ‘Y’ joined in on the tail end, laughing along with ‘H’. But ‘F’, who was born, or hatched in a land without classic cartoons, kept on biting. Trying to A-Q-Z ‘Y’ of U-sing phrases he knoweth not thereof, she bellowed:
“Two weeks ago… ‘R’s gratia ‘R’s’; you got any idea what the even means?”
‘Y’ looked calm, secure in his ‘R’s and quietly sliced his steak with that self-assurance one must get from tons of supportive reader comments.
“Pass the ‘P’s.” ‘H’s other ‘X’s first words.
“She can talk?!” I joked, trying in my lame way to change the conversation lineup. “B’, who had also been silent took the ball on a lateral…
“Yeah, how come you w-w-eren’t t-talking?” he asked innocently.
“I could reach everything till now.” ‘N’ said grudgingly, and that was the end of that thread.
Except that now ‘F’ had a new warm body to T’s.
“Hmm, ‘B’ has a v-voice.” she mocked. “And I’d thought he was either dumb or subtle.”
“She means ‘dumb‘ in a ‘good’ way.” ‘Y’ put his hand on ‘B’s shoulder, then turned to ‘N’:
“And what shall we call U dear?” he asked pleasantly.
“I M N” she decreed, as if being generous. (Ok, ‘I, Caligula‘? Yeah it coulda been shorter.)
I could go on. About two hours into the gala ‘F’ XQ-sed herself to run to the bathroom.
“Here’s our lucky break.” ‘H’ said. grabbing my arm. I watched as he skillfully used a broom-handle and a handy box (my rock-collection from the Rockies trip in ’64) to trap the ‘offending creature’ in my ‘powder-room’. Possibly not the first time.
“Let her out in the morning.” he instructed me. “You can crash at my crib.”
“A little extreme, no?” I had misgivings, visions of her swimming out via the toilet into the sewer system, and thence, albeit be-shmutzed, to The World. We did let her out, after about an hour, but during which ‘C’, ‘Y’s ‘Y’s wife, who arrived late after doing her car-pool thing for the Dance Academy, showed us just what ‘charming’ (and exhaustively productive) oughta be like. She and ‘Y’ run “C and Y’s Candy Shoppe”, turns out, and on top of that the poor thing works until the wee hours with her sister I-lean baking and packaging their ‘C ‘n I’ Dog Biscuits. She was nice enough to go get me a free sample from her minivan, even though I don’t have a dog. Something about the name just grabs me. (Plus they don’t taste that bad, in a pinch). But I’ll prolly save ’em for my deer friends, who I’m sure will be coming back shortly. Uh oh, another party.