Or so said the fortune from Beckett’s fortune cookie yesterday. My mom and I joked about the lovely ladies at his evening Gymboree class and we left it at that.
If only that had been the end of the story.
Lest you fear an over-share coming on, let me say that this, um, “encounter” did not involve me directly. At least not as a participant.
My friends, I hope you are sitting because this is a doozy.
Last night I met up with my bestie from high school for some cheese dip and margaritas. The weather was spectacular so we sat out on the restaurant patio in order to enjoy the sunset and the view, and oh what a view we had.
Two tables over there were four people whom I assume were two couples but I can’t be certain. There were two men and two women. All in their mid fifties. All old enough to know better. They were drunkity-drunk drunk. And loud. And, shall we say, amorous. So there we were, sipping our adult beverages while we witnessed an unwanted live action adult show. Nobody deserves to be as scarred as Heather and I now find ourselves so I’ll spare you most of the details, but I feel compelled to give you the highlights via quotes from our patio p0rn stars.
Hey! How come he never kisses me like he’s kissing you? I mean, damn, I’m his wife!
Hey man, you know what would really get me hot is if your wife would kiss my woman. I mean really, really kiss her. Like with tongue.
Immediately following round one of the girl on girl action:
Her: Oh, baby, your pants are wet!
Him, addressing the restaurant patrons who were trying not to vomit: This ain’t no pina colada folks!
Yeah. You read that right.
No amount of liquor could have made that socially acceptable. All of us on the patio with them felt like dirty, dirty, dirty voyeurs, except that nothing about it was secret and none of the observers were anything but disgusted. Strangely, nobody talked to a manger, and nobody even thought about talking to the fearsome foursome. The wait staff was practically hiding. 20 or so adults were doing everything possible to avoid eye contact with any of the, er, performers. I think we were all to stunned to react and just kept hoping it would end soon.
Anyway, they finally left but not before one of the men stormed out, the women got into a screaming match about who had a better relationship with God, and one of the ladies ran after her man only to return to the table crying for some unknown reason. Don’t worry though, her man came back, there was some championship tonsil hockey, and groping, and then the other chick came back for a final goodbye the likes of which you might expect to be reserved for a soldier headed off to war, and all in all it was a fitting exit.
Next fortune cookie gets left unopened.