It Was a Dark and Stormy Night When…

Let me tell you a story about a girl I know who held on by a bare thread while sick for a long and demanding week at work. She came home on Friday night at the ripe hour of 6:12 and, arms weighed down by things brought home after that long week of work, she stood staring at her door, fumbling to fit key in lock as she heard the phone begin to ring behind the number 10 staring her hard in the face on the frontside of that door.

Finally able to unlock the door, it springs open and she drops her meaningless crap to the ground and finds the phone amidst her crowded dining table. O-ho! A fine thing indeed! At the other end is a dear friend inviting her over to share a casserole.

“Funny that,” she thinks and tells the friend how the next plan of attack was actually a visit to the liquor store for some good but affordable merlot. They scheme, and with the 37 minutes of cooking remaining for the dish, she drops everything and heads in search of that affable red.

It’s some many minutes later and friend and she find themselves fork-deep in Noodle Caboodle and bargoon merlot. A fine Friday night to be had amongst friends.

Inevitably, she found herself in need of facilities, and upon her bold return, she kicked the crystal glass she’d previously sat upon the floor some three or four feet, shattering it underfoot of the pudgy-ass cat slinking about the hardwood floor. He then decided she was in no shape to travel road-side home and stated he’d walk her to the curb. “You’re walking,” he more or less decreed, and so she did, knowing he’d whale upon her ass should he leave for work at 4 a.m. and see her scooter missing from his curb.

So, it’s again many minutes later when we find her seated comfortably, if not a little breathless, upon her futon with An Inconvenient Truth playing in her DVD player and an unsettled beer settling before popping the top.

Who watches An Inconvenient Truth while drunk? Why, our trusty protagonist, she of impeccable standards and fizzy beer.

And the same she now realizes that while this might be well-written, it doesn’t necessarily seem to have a point.

Except perchance to say this… Hearing from friends on short notice, with generosity in the offing, and a bottle of drinkable red, followed by really taking some time to think about how incredibly fortunate and strangely blessed we all are to live on this oddly hospitable ball in space might just be a really terrific way to spend a week that’d been spent a little on the harsh side in the preceding days.

In other words, have a great weekend, y’all. Certainly in my plans. Now… is that beer settled? Is popping the top safe? Will good beer be wasted? Tune in next time as we answer those exciting questions, AND MORE, on Smut & Steff!