SPRINGING AHEAD... A busy time (Part 127e)
Saturday
was basically taken up with preparing for the so called party with the
”group“. Everybody had indicated that they were coming and that meant
having to borrow some folding chairs. It was now up to eighteen people
if everyone came. We could accommodate up to twelve with chairs we had
so it meant tracking down six more. I was in the process of doing that
when I got a call from ”Big B“ about the racecar. We were almost ready
to put the motor in and he’d borrowed a chain hoist. He’d gone to the
garage where we’d been working on it to see how to get it hung. When he
did he was concerned that the beams wouldn’t be able to hold the weight
of it and wondered what we were going to do. Neither of us had thought
about that when putting the motor together. It was on a a dolly that we
could roll around on the floor but that was it. It was just another
thing to add to the list of problems. I told him that I couldn’t think
about it at the moment as I was trying to locate chairs. ”How many? was
his response. Within the hour I had eight folding chairs.
I
was putting the liquor I'd borrowed from my father on the kitchen
counter while Elle was getting dressed when the kitchen door opened. It
was only a little after 7pm and the party wasn't to start until 7:30pm.
In stumbled Rob, obviously drunk. I asked where his wife Lisa was and
all he did was to shrug his shoulders. He made straight for the bourbon
and I tried to intercept him. He was almost 100 pounds heavier than I
was so that didn’t work. I pleaded with him to wait until the others got
there hoping his brother Jon could control him. He promised that he’d
only have one so I agreed. But that one was a high ball glass half
filled with Jim Beam. I shuttled him into the den and into my recliner,
turning on the TV and wondering what the rest of the night would be
like.
Once everybody was there Pat took over and it
became a full blown meeting and anything but a party. Fritz, who she’d
been trying to recruit to run for the other school board position, was
officially “off the hook” as Pat reported that a “local” had filed for
it. When she announced who it was I shuddered. “Wally” was a plumber, in
business with his father. I knew him because they’d done all the
plumbing work for my father. Wally was one of the most negative people
I’d ever met. No matter what position you took on a subject, he’d take
the opposite one. But Pat proceeded to list all the reasons why he was
going to be good for what we all wanted to accomplish. Her main points
were that he had a son who was in the junior high school and had vocally
made known that he was dissatisfied with his progress and he was a
“local”. With Bob, from the “group“, already running and considered to
be an ”outlander“, having Fritz run would just dilute our chances. She
said two outsiders might be too much to overcome. There wasn’t much
discussion (not that there ever was when she was talking) but she didn’t
stop there.
The PTA needed to raise money. She'd come
up with an idea and we, the ”group”, were the key to it. What she wanted
to do was geared to getting kids from the school to promote a Parents
versus Teacher event. She wanted us to come up with ideas for different
types of competitions that could be used. In looking back on it now, the
rest of the night proved to be pretty interesting. Although there were
no "fun and games" as in the past, time flew by. Because the “group” had
a total of 23 kids (20 of them girls) and none older than 10, baby
sitters were always needed so 10:30pm became the “witching hour” to keep
costs down. Rob had passed out in my recliner and we had all been happy
to just leave him there. However, I wasn’t about to let him sleep it
off there. Jon volunteered to drive him home but needed help in getting
him out to his car and Johnnie volunteered to help.
I held
the storm door open as the two of them struggled to get Rob out and
down the two steps to the patio. As Jon passed me by he asked if I’d
seen his wife, Ginger. When at a party with Ginger I always had an eye
peeled for her as I’d usually glean a few “peeks”. The last I’d seen of
her was just before they got Rob out of the chair and she was headed
into the bathroom. The window for it was right there and I pointed to it
and Jon acknowledged. It took some “doing” but the three of us managed
to stuff Rob and his 200+ pounds into Jon's back seat. I remember asking
Jon what he was going to do with him once he got to Rob’s house. I
couldn’t see his face when he answered “Just dump him!” so I didn’t know
if he was kidding or not.
Since neither Ginger or Sandy had
followed us outside we all made our way back into the kitchen. I fully
expected to see the three women waiting for us but no one was there. The
door to the cellar was partially opened so I called down to see if, for
some unknown reason, they’d gone down there. I saw there was a light on
but no one answered. That left me to call upstairs. On the third try I
saw Elle stick her head out from our bedroom door and heard her say that
it’d only be a minute. I was puzzled. What were they doing in my (our)
bedroom?
I waited at the foot of the stairs for all three to come
down. For some reason Ginger looked a bit embarrassed as she walked
past me. Good nights were said leaving Elle and I to pick up the residue
from the party. That was the one thing hated the most after hosting...
the clean up. Elle insisted that it be done before going to bed as she
didn’t want to face it in the morning. However, on this occasion I
realized that it would give me the time to inquire about the women's
visit to out bedroom. As usual, Elle didn’t want to go into detail
trying to get out of answering by saying it was “girly stuff” or
something like that. I wasn’t buying! I told her I wanted the whole
story or she was going to face the clean up by herself. I got a pouty
look in return but when I started to leave she called me back.
I
don’t remember everything she told me and I’m not sure of the sequence
but, basically, this is what had happened... Ginger, with four kids, one
right after another was left with a bit of an incontinence problem,
exacerbated by alcohol. She’d full out wet herself on our couch at the
first “group” party we’d hosted. I’d seen other instances of it and had,
from time to time talked with Elle about it. Then, if you’ve been
reading more recent posts, you're probably aware of Sandy’s “dribble”
problem and how, between Elle, Sandy and I, had created what, for lack
of a better description, we called “dribble panties” for her (and for
Elle). When all the other people were leaving Elle and Sandy had chatted
a bit and Elle asked her if she’d gotten her medications straightened
out (referring to her “situation” at the last basketball game). Not
really thinking, (probably because of the alcohol) Sandy announced that
her “dribble panties” had been sufficient that night. Ginger overheard
her comment and wanted to know what she was referring to.
To be continued...
2 comments:
Another shot at handling and remodeling some panties, we hope.
OB... don't get ahead of the story! :-)
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