A Swift Kick & A Band-Aid

Drippy Dogs

So that BBQ we went to on Sat? Umm... SUCKED!

And poor Feisty D who flew into town, made time in her plans to see me after all this time, and had to endure the bizzare mash of events. She was just as beautiful and charming as I remembered her to be. What else could I expect from a Hot-lanta woman? Full of laughter and quick wit, she's still my kinda chick.

But the torture I put her through...

First off, it decided to rain the entire day. Weathermen said it would break by noon and then be scattered thunderstorms throughout the afternoon. The actual chain of events were more like constant gray with a precipitation range of slight drizzle to moderate rain. I was cold the entire freakin day. Even once I was inside I could not get my body to warm up. So later that evening I burrowed into the couch in a fleece and homer simpson slippers watching shows about tattoos. But I digress...

Originally this BBQ was scheduled for 6pm. It got moved to 3pm. We showed up at 3:30 and were the first to arrive. The host was still in her grubs from powerwashing the deck (in the rain?) and had no idea what to do with herself.
Strike One.

The "yard" or "back patio" was sort of sketchy. Within the privacy fence there was a small deck area, a small cement area, and a small 'grassy area' - mostly taken up by a very large home made dog house - that was also mostly a big mud pit ... including the area dug out under the house. The window screens were shredded by dog claws and the patio door was atrocious. It looked like a scene out of Cujo.
Strike Two.

The only other person there to begin with was the strong, silent type...minus the strong part... Not so great for conversation...

So we took a seat at the patio table (after laying plastic down on the nasty chairs) and tried to have a conversation over chips and salsa. The only problem? The wind kicked up a little and we suddenly noticed how much the backyard reeked of urine. It smelled as if the deck wood were soaked in it. It was revolting.
Strike Three.

Once other people started showing up and the food was being grilled it felt a little more like a fun get together. But then the guests started talking... Very clique-ish, upwardly mobile, young adult crowd with lots they felt the need to brag about. Um... no. Last time I checked a backyard BBQ was about having a few brews and telling great stories.
Strike Double Three.

D left early for the wedding she flew up for and I was out of there shortly there after. I think I'll 'accidentally' lose the next evite to that house...

Posted by Princess Cat at August 28, 2005 11:24 PM @ 11:24 PM in Good Times // Permalink | TrackBack