In preparation for our upcoming trip to the Hamptons, Skiwi and DDDG invited Ice Cream Man, Sleepless and I to their house for a pre-trip wine tasting and planning. I arrived to find the four of them in the kitchen, making pizza and watermelon beverages. “Are you wearing anything under that apron?” I asked Skiwi who, with the exception of his shirt, appeared to be naked from the waist down. “Yes I am,” he said moving his apron to the side to reveal some ‘Hamptons’ red dress shorts. “We’re more than ready for the Hamptons. Check out Autumn Mist,” he said pointing to Ice Cream Man who had purposely donned a pair of baby blue dress shorts with a plaid shirt in a similar hue.
While sitting at the bistro enjoying our pre-trip food, Skiwi ran inside the house and returned wearing a pair of aviators. “I’m thinking these are a must for the Hamptons. Last year, everyone there was wearing them. I got them for $1 at a yard sale – they’re Sargenti. Are they too last year to wear?” he asked. “Not at all,” Ice Cream Man advised while adjusting his baby blue plaid shirt and, most likely, wishing he was wearing loafers, sans socks.
With dinner plans on their agenda, Skiwi and DDDG bid us farewell. Ice Cream Man, Sleepless and I retreated to the stoop where Ice Cream Man unveiled something he had been working on all day: vodka infused watermelon. This item may also end up on the menu for the Hamptons. As we enjoyed the slices of watermelon, Sleepless appeared concerned, “I can’t taste the vodka. Does this mean I’m an alcoholic?” “That’s not why you’re an alcoholic,” I replied. We all laughed and then decided to walk to a local pub.
Along the way, we came upon a man changing his clothes in his driveway. Apparently, he was under the impression nobody would see him and, when ‘caught,’ had something to say about it. I heard words come from his mouth, but had no idea what they were. Sleepless was pretty sure he referred to us as, ‘these three hookers.’ Ice Cream Man heard, ‘these mother fuckers.’ Either way, he wasn’t too keen on our presence. We were dressed way too smart to 1) let this deter us and 2) change our clothes in the driveway, thus, continued on our way.
After a round of drinks at the pub we decided to again retreat to the stoop. Halfway there, Sleepless announced she needed to pee. I recommended she do as That’s Not Chinese do and pee outside. Ice Cream Man agreed, “Every guy loves to come home from a good night out and pee in his yard.” I’m looking forward to testing this theory in the Hamptons. Sleepless, however, did not want to be like ‘every guy,’ especially considering none of the yards belonged to her. Instead, we stopped at 7-11 where she used the facilities, we bought Slurpees, and Ice Cream Man purchased two forties.
Ten minutes later, after a photo shoot on an abandoned sofa, and acquiring a vintage rocking chair (one man’s trash is another man’s treasure), we returned to the stoop. Sleepless and I ‘enhanced’ our Slurpees and Ice Cream Man, with his feet propped up on the cooler/ottoman, took a sip of his Natty Light and proclaimed, “I am so happy right now.” Happy we three were. Can’t wait to share this magic with ‘those’ in the Hamptons again. These three mother fuckin’ hookers are more than ready.