Sunday, September 28, 2008

Catching Up

You know what I hate?

Lots of things. That's the way I roll. But I don't hate everything. In fact, I didn't hate the dinner I had tonight with an old friend who lives in the city I'm currently visiting.

My friend and his wife recently adopted a girl. He's excited in that way new parents are before reality grinds them down. (Pay no attention, Kathleen, I'm talking hypothetically here.)

"Yeah, I sure love my kids too," I said without enthusiasm. "So much so that I've invested my retirement savings in baseball bats."

My friend looked at me quizzically.

"Baseball bats," I repeated. "Three of them. For my youngest. Each one worth more than my retirement plan. Thanks, buddy."

In addition to adopting a child, my friend just started a new job, a position in which he has an opportunity to influence national economic policy. He's adding on to his house too. He'll be lucky to last out the week and my slightly crazed glare must have unnerved him further. He laughed nervously.

"You know what's the best part of being a parent?" I demanded, slicing off another piece of boudin noir. "The gratitude. 'You're the best dad ever.' That's all I ever hear.'"

"You have nice kids," he offered hesitantly.

"A regular Cosby family, that's us," I said as I polished off the rest of my wine.

"How's the Lovely Bride?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"Probably happy, now that I'm out of town," I replied, waving my empty glass at the waitress. "Hell, I'd be glad to be away from me."

"Right," he said, noncommittally.

"You ever consider driving into a bridge abutment?" I asked. "Not hard enough to die, just enough to spend some time in the hospital. Away from your family."

"Not really," he replied. He wasn't making eye contact with me anymore.

"Yeah, me either," I said.

My friend called for the check.

"You might as well let me pay," I said. "I keep telling my boys patricide disqualifies them from collecting on my insurance. I don't think it's just about the money anymore."

"Hmm," he said.

"You should visit the next time you're in town," I told him.

"That would be great," he lied.

"I don't blame you for feeling that way," I said.

12 comments:

Pinko Punko said...

I love the series Evenings with Snag. It's a wonder that they can keep milking the same territory with verve and dark comedy. I wonder how Season 3 will go? I suggest Snag should have one of these dinners pantsless. Hilarity must ensue. Or is that sue?

rotten mcdonald said...

I bet they just do a clip show.

Jennifer said...

I thought Evenings with Snag have always been pantless!

Righteous Bubba said...

I liked the part where the angel convinces him he should live.

Kathleen said...

I think Season 3 is where they introduce a wacky sidekick who is supposed to be funny, but the audience really really hates.

And everyone knows what happens in Season Four. The surprise pregnancy.

fish said...

I liked the part where the angel convinces him he should live.

Small typo. Fixed version:

I liked the part where the angel named SATANconvinces him he should live.

fish said...

Season 4 is where they risk everything and move Snag to a border town where he becomes a moose mule.

rotten mcdonald said...

waitaminnit....

didn't I show up here around season 3?

You bastards!!

fish said...

Oh my god! They killed RM!!

YOU BASTARDS!!!

Jennifer said...

Oh my god! They killed RM!!

He forgot to pack his backer rod. It would have saved him. So sad.

When does Snag go skiing and jumps a moose?

zombie rotten mcdonald said...

Great. Another blog where I need to post as the undead.

Coincidentally enough, last weekend we watched Fido

Brando said...

"You ever consider driving into a bridge abutment?" I asked. "Not hard enough to die, just enough to spend some time in the hospital. Away from your family."

That belongs in a Coen Brothers movie.