"You have a whole week worth of blog posts in one night!" said Dick Whitman when I took leave of him last night, and he is right.
It was quite the eveeeevening.
And by the way, hey, Dick Whitman, you jerk. He only reads my blog when I post about him. Annoying.
So last night, ...friend and I drove to Winston, because somehow the power of Christ compels us to go to Winston EVERY FRICKEN WEEKEND, and also because D.Whit was alone, given that the woman he's been seeing was out of town. Naturally he picked our fine selves to fill that gap.
We started out at Deewhit's (and how many ways am I gonna spell his name today, do you think?) house, which I have mentioned to you and to ...friend--about 780 times--that Dwhitty's house is nice. Nice. I mean, let's face it, Wee Whitty D and I never had that whatever to make us a couple, but the first time I went to his house I remember thinking, "Maybe I could find a way to make this work."
Here is his front porch last year, with the spilled hummingbird food because I made him feed them, but I did not mean, "Splay it all over so you can feed the ants, too."
I didn't take a picture this year because I left my purse in the house and was too lazy to get it, which is a shame because ...friend and DDub and I were out there at sunset, eating the hummus and watching the fireflies, and it was lovely.
"Wasn't the end of Mad Men so good?" asked Dick Whitman, who in case you have not caught on got his fake blog name from that very show. We both LOVE Mad Men, LOVE, and ...friend is one of those people who doesn't watch much TV (whatever), so we kept trying to NOT talk about the show, but we are obsessed.
Eventually, we drove into town to eat, not that DandhisW lives way out or anything. Which is irrelevant to the story and I have become one of those every-detail-wait-let-me-back-up bad storytellers.
We went to a Thai restaurant downtown, and sat outside, on the street.
Here is a really super excellent picture of ...friend at the restaurant,
and here is kind of a cute photo of WhitDick. Same restaurant. In case you were slow.
So we're enjoying our Pho, and who could not stop with the Pho jokes? Like, ...friend would say, "This Pho is great" and I'd say, "Are you just faking? Because it's faux?" and really, the hilarity never stops when you are with me.
Until it did.
Because we're sitting there, MINDING OUR OWN BUSINESS, and you know how I love it when people add that necessary tidbit, when this enormous man came up to our table.
"XCYE DJEOEO OO?" he said.
Honest engine, he made no sense.
"Hi. How you doing?" said ...friend, because it was he this lunatic was addressing more than Dickwhi and me. Also, ...friend is Southern, so if some incomprehensible crazy person approaches him, he is polite.
"Bqsdds fgkdkd$%ot gjgje++," said the guy.
"Can't understand you, sir, but have a good night," said ...friend, who have I mentioned is Southern? At this point a New Yorker would certainly have told the man to do untoward things with his mother, but not ...friend.
All of a sudden, the huge crazy guy LEANS DOWN and grabs ...friend.
!!!
"Don't touch me," said ...friend, sounding all stern. But the guy wouldn't stop, and he was getting decidedly menacing. "I SAID DON'T TOUCH ME," said ...friend, who in one swoop got up, pushed the guy and looked really super King Kamehameha scary all of a sudden.
I have never been so attracted to anyone in all my life. Oooo, he was being manly.
The guy got right back in ...friend's face, and all of a sudden there was tough Dick Whitman, too, who had put down his mai tai or champagne cocktail on a doily or whatever to come to ...friend's defense. In the meantime, I rushed inside.
"There's a scary guy out there. Get the police." Of course, I had my stupid PHONE, probably in my HAND, but clean forgot that part.
As soon as I said that, all the workers rushed out, so the huge scary guy then had me and a gaggle o' three-feet-tall Asian women to contend with. Intimidating! I literally had on flowered shoes. They have big yellow roses. Of Texas. I mean, don't eff with me.
However, me and my posse were unnecessary, because manly ...friend had shooed the guy away with his scariness, and SERIOUSLY IT WAS SO MANLY I SWOONED. SWOONED!
We did NOT get a free meal out the deal, which sucks. "Did you totally want to sleep with ...friend when he did that?" I asked Whitmanly, as we headed to a bar for a yay-we-lived cocktail. "Um. No," said Whitty, but he had to have been lying. Because I was Edsel at that point, all simpering and drooling about ...friend.
So we went to this bar that I have told you about before, where they make really strong mixed drinks (no, I didn't have one) that are old fashioned, like literally Old Fashioneds and mint juleps and so on. We were sitting outside, in the back where no crazy folk could get us, when GUESS WHO WALKED IN?
GUESS!
Not the crazy dude. MATTHEW WEINER. THE CREATOR OF MAD MEN!
A super really good photo of M Weiner. There he is, with the bald head, standing, in blue. SEE???
"Gasp!" said Whitedick. "Matthew Weiner is here. Look!"
Now, you guys. I lived in LA for more than 10 years. I have seen me the celebrities. I saw Ashton and Demi. I saw Peter Frampton (I KNOW!). I saw Nicholas Cage. I sat behind Helen Mirren at the movies once. And yet? Who geeked out?
"Shhh!" said Whittard, who then proceeded to stare at and take photos of Matthew Weiner all night.
He's in town doing a movie. Owen Wilson and Amy Pohler are in town, too, and there have been unicorn sightings of them all over the place.
"Go say hi," said ..friend, and I am sorry. No. I'm NOT gonna go bother a celebrity, even the guy who created my favorite show ever, not to mention THE SOPRANOS, which is my favorite show ever and I realize I just said they both were and shut up.
Oh, Wittyman and I were beSIDE ourselves all night. "If he makes eye contact, what're we gonna do?" he asked nervously. "We wave," I said, because apparently Matthew Weiner is Daniel Boone.
Finally this very young cute couple sat at the picnic table with us, as there was no more room at the inn. I told the young girl that Matthew Weiner was here and she said, "Oh! My parents love that show!"
Wa-wa-waaaaaaaaaaa.
Depressing.
Could ...friend have gotten a bigger kick out of that? Did he quote it all night? Is he nine days from being another year older himself and should he just shut up?
Anyway, the next thing you know the cute girl gets up and returns with an absolutely excellent photo of her with effing Matthew Weiner, to send to her mom. "He was so nice!" she said. "Go over there and take a picture!"
Yeah. You're gorgeous and 22. Of COURSE Matthew Weiner was nice to you. "Hey! I'm an old sea hag! Enjoy my hair, won't you? Hey! You might know me as the international blog star June Gardens! Can I write shows for you? I could totally do it!"
So I left Matthew Weiner alone. And had to listen to ...friend thinking that line from that girl was hilarious. And I had to be nice about it because he'd so manfully saved me from the crazy guy. Well. Technically he saved himSELF from the crazy guy but who knows? Maybe I'da been next.
And that, friends, is my evening.
Winston-Salem is fun.
Oh. P.S.
Thanks, Faithful Reader Peter.
