Act natural

( Monday, Oct. 13, 2003 11:23 am )

>Arroz con pollo

Everyone should probably feel sorry for Juney now, who over the weekend had her parents in town and had to try and entertain them, or else just try to subdue their crabbiness with regular intake of food. I met up with the gang last night, after work, for dinner, and felt pity deep to the bottom of my soul, though actually I do like Juney's folks. The evening started out on an up note when Juney's dad informed me that their hotel was "swish-city", ie. full of homosexual softball teams. Shortly thereafter, June's mom insisted we detour through a street festival which of course turned out to be Coming Out Day, making June's dad deeply uncomfortable in a way that really just tickled me, and making June's mom reassure me that we could just pretend I was her "bitch." I think she was thinking of prison rather than lesbian couplehood, but no one of either gender showed any interest in me all night anyway, perhaps because I hate goddamn softball. After this followed some debate and crabbiness regarding June's choice of restaurant, during which my empty belly and tired feet were dragged around center city, til we finally went into a Cuban restaurant. Juney, in what I believe was an attempt to self-medicate, ordered wine and then almost immediately knocked the glass over with an expressive gesture onto her mother.

Her mom was nice about it, but it was clearly a "last straw" kind of moment for June, making me wish to buy her some replacement alcohol, like perhaps a bottle of tequila, tout suite. The food was late to the table, but it was so so so good, and suddenly dinner restored good feelings all around, even to Mr. Juney, who could even stand to talk to me about baseball and the fearsome head of Don Zimmer.

Thinking about that meal has made me hungry again, but unfortunately I ate every last scrap of it last night, along with 12 or 14 glasses of water, making Mr. June think that the water guy was into me. I mean, maybe he was impressed by the way I can put away the H20, but he seemed pretty poker faced about it.

In other news, I made a trip to the library yesterday and was excited to check out Wifey by Judy Blume, both because it was by Judy Blume and because it was about an unfulfilled 60s housewife. Actually though, it's like a low-budget Erica Jong. Maybe it'll pick up though. There's a Mysterious Masturbator on, like, page 2.

The Red Sox game got rained out yesterday. I actually tried to watch it and was surprised when it wasn't on TV, to the point that I actually stayed up to watch Sports Center to find out why. See, Call--fucking Sports Center, that is how crazy I am about you.

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