This weekend, I saw the most beautiful man I've ever seen, surprised Marty Martin, entertained my Aunt Mary, and saw my friend Marianne. It was a very M weekend.
So, my aunt and uncle have been here since Wednesday, and before they got here I alerted them: Kayeeee had planned a surprise for Marty's 50th for some time, like before-summer some time, so I invited them to come along with me that night, because I was for sure going. They said they'd entertain themselves, and what I like are visitors who can, in fact, do just that rather than being all, But I'm HERE! I need you to dedicate all your seconds to ME! For days at a TIME! What do you mean the rest of your life is still happening in the meanwhile?
So right after work Friday, I screamed to the inconvenience store near me to get bad wine to take to the party. I am a delight.
This kid, and I mean, I can't tell if someone's 22 or 27 anymore, but no one I should be having indecent thoughts about, got out of a shitty car.
Oh my GOD.
He had longish-hair, and it was shiny and wavy and dark. It wasn't long so much as it was just sort of messy and sexy and, yeah, long-ish. He had piercing blue eyes, which met mine through the glass of the store. He was probably excited his grandma was there to buy for him.
When he walked in, I tried not to look, but fortunately he dropped his change all over the floor, so I turned around. He had the kind of muscles that were defined but not huge and gross.
His jawline was to die for. Oh my GOD, did I mention?
And then he struck up a converSAtion with me, because he probably worried he'd have to help me to my car, I'm so doddering, and the whole time I thought, "If I just get a photo of him to send to Marty, Marty would see it and totally understand why I'd said, 'Hey, sonny, let's take this nine-dollar bottle of wine back to my pad.' and never showed up at his party.
However, I didn't, because decent person other than lusting for men in their youth, a thing men do without apology all the time so fuck it. Maybe I should go back to the convenience store every day till I see him again, be his saccharine daddy. I don't have enough money to be anyone's "sugar" anything.
I didn't take photos at the party, but the best part was that one of his friends got him a flying fuck. It's a big thing that spells out FUCK with a propeller on top and you can literally fly it around the room. Best give ever. Someone gave a flying fuck.
The next morning as soon as I got up, we all went to the farmers market, and by "we all," I mean my relatives and me, not the young hot boy and Marty and me. Which would have been quite a combination.
Mary bought vegetables like they're a thing, and she came home and MADE pasta sauce, like that's just a thing you do, using the oil from my headache study, so I could have it. She also bought bread, which I could NOT have, and of course during dinner (DELICIOUS), everyone was all, "This bread is marvelous." "Isn't this bread something?" "This bread is better than that hot boy."
In general, I took Aunt Mary all over yonder all weekend. My Uncle Stuart occasionally sat some of our trips out, and watched sports at my house with Steely Dan, who took a big shine to Stuart and slept on his lap and so on. SD is fetching, I mean both as an adjective and as a verb. You throw his little mouse and he leaps across the floor and brings it back in his teefs.
We shopped, as Aunt Mary is wont to do. There's an old white vanity I'm dying for at this vintage shop I love--called Adelade's, if you're ever here--a steal at $185. Am mulling. It could go in the second bedroom. The blue bedroom. Oh, it's so pretty.
On Sunday, we went to the Reynolds mansion, the site of much tobacco-doings, and I pointed out to Mary it's the cause of several of our relatives' deaths, but hey. Pretty gardens and shops. So.
Way back yonder when Ned and I were dating, he'd always said he wanted to meet Aunt Mary. She was forever sending me gifts and so forth, and he was curious about her after all my stories. So he came along to the Reynolds mansion with us, and to dinner after.
I think they all liked each other. They started talking about world events and politics, so I stared at foliage and so on till they were done.
Oooo! A watermelon! And a white...something gourdy!
June. Gardens. BAH!
Eventually, we got up with Marianne, who was only allowed two grapes for dinner. It's what we do to be hilarious in my family.
Ned. Defensive at dinner, since 2016. That glass of wine never left Marianne's hand.
It wasn't so much duck face as it was nightmare face.
Anyway, now today Aunt M and Uncle S are getting on a plane, and my life is back to normal, and by "back to normal" I mean Ima hang at the convenience store more than is necessary.
Pistachio-crustedly,
June
