Add to Google Subscribe in Bloglines Subscribe in NewsGator Online mr. nice feed Subscribe in Rojo

Sunday, February 17, 2008

true confessions: valentine's edition

my darling bride was out of down for a bit this past week. she had some business in houston or ontario or hong kong or something. i don't know. all i know is that she was gone, off earning daddy a new pair of shoes.

so i took the opportunity to hire a baby-sitter and go out a-drinkin'.

i should probably mention that i hit the town with a gift card (at a cheesy local bar that recently banned strollers, sparking a predictably boneheaded debate). i probably wouldn't have gone there if i hadn't had the gift card. ok. technically speaking i guess you could say that it was "my wife's" gift card and that i had "stolen it out of her wallet." i should also mention that it was "valentine's day." but the fact remains, i had me a night on the town. and it was courtesy of her. now if that's not the true meaning of love, i don't know what is.

i went out and drank delicious lagavulin single malt. for those uninitiated in the world of scotch, let me break it down for you: lagavulin tastes liquid smoke, filtered through a mound of peat (which i believe is composed of partially-decayed vegetation). doesn't that sound delicious? i first developed a taste for scotch in general -- and lagavulin in particular -- when i had a boss who poured out two fingers of the stuff every friday at 5:30. he was my favorite boss ever. one time, when i was in the office whistling, he said to me "there are only two reasons for you to be whistling: 1) you're happy. 2) you're stupid. well, if you're working for me, you'd better be neither."

i invited my friend, a honcho at p.i.n.k. vodka, which is not what i drank. neither did he. i used the gift card that i stole from my wife to buy him baker's bourbon. when the gift card ran out -- which was very fast -- we went to another, cheaper bar and drank buds. i went home and paid the sitter, feeling not a little like a scumbag for stumbling home at 1 am (at least i was alone!) and scrawling her a check because i had no more cash because i had spent it all on drink because my pregnant wife was out of town for business on valentine's day.

i settled in for a late-night meal of microwaved leftovers (mmm, sage chicken and apples). then the doorbell rang! i was stunned! who could be ringing me at almost-2 am on february 15!? i opened the door to a gaggle of clearly-wasted 20-somethings. their leader -- the most sober looking of the bunch -- stepped up to me. she said: "hey! we're here for jeff's party! are you jeff?"

hmmm. i slurred, "no ithinkyou have thewrongadd ress. no party hhhhhere." she seemed prepared to accept this information at face value. but then! one of the dudes in her posse -- squinty eyes blazing red -- came forward and asked me "are you sure there's no party back there, dude?" oh, man. i wanted to kick him in his tiny hipster 'nads. i took a deep breath and summoned as much indignation and self-righteous rage as i could before saying, dripping with sanctimony: "look. i have a sleeping 2-year-old in here. there is no party. sorry to disappoint." -- you know, kinda as if i hadn't been out drinking for the four previous hours myself.

the girl was horrified, totally embarrassed. she was all "omigod, i'm so sorry." i mean, she probably thought they woke me up. or at least disturbed a humble family man from his nocturnal contemplation. and so they all slinked off, chastened. as i watched their hunched shoulders sulk away from my house, part of me wished i had pretended to be jeff and invited them in for a little impromptu soiree. still, i was enjoying my moment, taking great pleasure in how bad they felt.

i know i should feel a little ashamed ... or at least a wee bit like a hypocrite. but screw that! it was probably my favorite valentine's day of all time.

3 Comments:

Blogger Menchuvian Candidate said...

I'm enjoying the google ads on this one: fourth up this time is "Valentine's Day-Roses Amazingly Fresh..."

True love is all about marrying the one who leaves something worth stealing in her wallet, and nothing says "I love you" like roses that passed their peak four days ago.

2/18/2008 8:00 AM  
Blogger Mike Karr said...

Lagavulin is my all time favorite liquor. You've inspired me to remind myself what it tastes like this evening. It helps to dull the sounds of crying children anyway.

2/18/2008 12:07 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

And it is one of my favorite Valentine stories of all time!

2/18/2008 2:15 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home