Whenever possible, I like to introduce my friends to different ‘culture.’ Fortunately, I have other friends who have the keen ability to make that happen very easily, making my job almost effortless.
Smart Writer recently wrote a book about the religious culture that played a part in many of our childhoods. He was in town for the holiday and thought it might be a good time to promote the book – I agreed. Together, we managed to get him a book reading and signing at one of the local coffee shops/novelty stores.
BioMom and Tree stopped by for pre-reading cocktails and then we met up with everyone else at the reading. Smart Writer had a nice PA system set-up and was fully ready to read and, should the event encounter a lull, I was ready to karaoke. Not surprisingly, there was no lull and Smart Writer had a great turnout.
“I’m starving,” Tree told us and added, “If you want free hot dogs we can go to the gay bar.” “Free hot dogs?” I asked. “What about the taco cart, live band, and DJ all night party at Everything and DJ Slap Pound’s house?” “Alright. Let’s try that out first,” Tree reluctantly sighed. We arrived at the party to find the taco cart waiting for us, live music playing and Skiwi anxiously awaiting our arrival. “We brought marshmallows and flowers,” I advised him. Although it was not necessary to bring anything to the party, I was hopeful that they would have a fire pit and we could toast marshmallows. “Oh, there’s no fire pit,” Skiwi told me then he took a marshmallow out of the bag, extended it toward my glass and said, “I’d like to make a toast.” “Good one,” BioMom told him.
An hour or so later, Smart Writer had shown up and, with the exception of Tree and Skiwi, the rest of our group had departed, as had the live band. DJ Slap Pound was mixing the tunes and we had been watching the other partygoers dance for some time. “I want to be a monied liberal,” Tree told us. “Look at them doing the dance moves they learned at their African dance class.”
After a few more ‘toasts’ by Skiwi, we all decided to hit the dance floor. We had danced a few good songs and thrown down some classic dance moves down when one of the party goers joined us on the dance floor. It was around this time that Tree and I decided to return to the patio; Skiwi followed suit. “Do I smell?” Tree asked me. “I don’t think so. Do I?” I replied. We then begin smelling each other. “Look at us. Sniffing each other out like dogs and asses,” Tree commented. “I think it was the new guy on the dance floor,” I told him. “Damn monied liberals not wearing any deodorant,” Tree quipped. “I mean, I don’t wear anti-perspirant, but I wear deodorant.” “Why don’t you wear anti-perspirant?” I asked. “I don’t want breast cancer,” he replied.
Smart Writer eventually rejoined us on the patio, “Somebody down there was smelling pretty fresh.” “That’s why we’re back up here,” said Skiwi, “I’d like to make a toast to that.” Again, holding his marshmallow up to our glasses. About this time, DJ Slap Pound decided to dedicate a song to our country, “Our country sucks, but it is the best ever.” “Did you hear that?” Tree asked. “I heard it,” Smart Writer replied. “Monied liberals,” Tree quipped.
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