Sal and I went to a luncheon with my folks yesterday, this kinda stuff is almost always high adventure for me and usually results in Sally at some point laughing and saying "You're awful".
Eh well, I do what I gotta do.
So they'd invited us to go to this deal with 'em, followed by a play at the local theater. The lunch was to be at 12:30 so in the interest of having plenty of time to get there... they came to our house at 11:00 AM in order to make the 15 minute drive to the luncheon in time. See, my Dad is a firm believer in the notion that if you get somewhere waaaayyyy before you're supposed to be there, people and circumstances will re-orientate themselves in order to oblige his own personal time frame. Believe it or not, some times it works, but mostly it doesn't and then he gets agitated and tries to rationalize out for everyone else why it should've gone the way he had it figured out in his head.
Make sense? No? Okay, here's a for instance. Doctor appointments. I take them both to them quite a bit, everyone needs a hobby... and I guarantee you that if they have a 11:00 AM appointment, they will want to be there at 8:30 "Just in case they can work us in earlier." Now my logic with this is simple, either make an early appointment to begin with (in their cases they'd probably want to get there the day before) or go on with my normal life and show up at the 11:00 AM appointment at 10:59.
I can remember several instances where their early plan actually worked. Of course my Dad will go to the receptionist, make buddies with her, tell her how he needs to get outta there to go eat at exactly noon and then.... give her candy. I'm amazed at how many receptionists in this old world can be bought off with the little individual sized pieces of Hershey's milk chocolate with an almond in it. His success with this maneuver is frequent enough that if I were single and looking, I'd be dragging around a bag of chocolate and administering it to every single looking receptionist and waitress in the tri-state area. I'm serious... and yet I don't "get it."
Anyhow, yesterday. We are the first people there, we knew that one was coming, we're always the first with my folks. They chose the table that we'd be sitting at at this buffet style luncheon being catered by an awesome local catering and BBQ business. Dad was happy with his seating. He had it all analyzed that we'd be very near the first table to traipse past the buffet.
We waited.
An announcement was made, instructions on how they were gonna herd about 150-200 people through this buffet line......... and those instructions put our table very near the end.
Panic.
Immediately Dad started rationalizing out loud how they SHOULD have herded us all through. I'm cracking up.
Dad: This is wrong. By the time that long table gets through, that other long table is going to be worked in the line and put us even further back.
Me: *whispering to Sal, and we're directly in front of my mom and dad* He's almost ruined.
Sal: *giggles* You're awful.
Mom: You really picked the wrong table Benny.
Now this kinda comment really gets him all ate up and mom knows it... and sends Dad into further autonomous discussion about how things SHOULD have gone.
Our line slowly snakes forward, the whole time dad is talking to me about how long it's gonna take to get food and sit down and how wrong this is going for him. I'm still giggling. Sally is giggling.
Suddenly Sal elbows me and says, "Look at your mom!"
Mom has jumped line, took a side detour around the outside and got herself up at the buffet a good 25 people ahead of us.
I'm in near hysterics at this point. Dad punches me in the back and says "Look at your mother!! How the hell did she get up there? LOOK! She started a whole 'nuther damned line! We'll never get up there."
And she had, a whole new line of white headed folks had followed her lead like sheep to the trough and now the new line was blocking our line. Dad was fit to be tied. I could barely stay standing for lack of oxygen. Sally kept saying "where's my camera". I whooped out my new cell phone and snapped some pics, but I got now idea how the hell to get 'em offa this one... so no pics.
We finally got to the trough, Dad was happy. The food was excellent. The play was excellent. The day was excellent.... and hillarious.
Couple of vids thrown in.
Today in 1980 we lost him...
And yesterday in 1949 we gained him. Tom's got a lot to say. Christmas Card From A Hooker In Minneapolis.
And I can't find the toad. I think he's gonna be okey doke... he disappears for days at a time. :-)
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5 comments:
A bribe to a receptionist? Brilliant.
Don't ya just love em, and the ones that are in such a hurry to be early are the ones that don't have anything else to do anyway. I work for a group of retirement/assisted living homes and the entertainment is worth more than the wages.
Carline in Sunny Washington State.
For the love of God Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, you've GOT to find the toad, man!!! What if he has mousetrap induced cranial infarctions going on in that toady little head!!! It could get really ugly! Go forth and find him!!!
A bourbon and coke at this table please!!!
~Snadi~
Snadi~
I go down there every day with a flashlight lookin for The Toad. I reeeeally wanna be the first one to find him. (she has a plan....)
Ha ha, my dad is the same way. If his doctor's appt is at 11 he is sitting with his coat on and all his gear waiting to leave. Sometimes I think he gets dressed the night before and sleeps in his clothes.
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