So, it’s been a
bit since I’ve managed to post anything here on this blog. Not really
surprising, my whole focus lately has been on
getting “Screaming in Paris” ready for digital publication. Still, I
feel a bit guilty about the posting drought, especially since it wasn’t that
long ago that I would get into a tizzy if I didn’t post every day. In the hopes
of keeping interest alive as well as ease the shame of my lackluster blog
performance, here’s a snippet from what is now “Chapter 32” of Screaming…
Okay, time for a slight break from the
narrative. Let’s take Paris out of the equation. Isn’t it amazing, when you are
dealing with multiple family members and trying to select a food destination,
that the whole process becomes this maddening, excruciating journey through
hell?
Picture this: Trace and I are innocently
sitting in our humble domicile, our Fortress of Solitude, when one of our
families (I won’t say which one), calls and announces that they are coming down
for the weekend. That’s fine, great, love to see ya. So the platoon of
relatives descends on Dallas, and everything is fairly decent, lots of love all
around.
Until it’s time for us to go eat somewhere.
Then the soul-sucking hatch to madness opens up, and we fall through it, with a
big batch of Alices tumbling down the rabbit hole.
First, it takes two hours for everyone to
actually get in to the vehicle that
has been chosen for our drive to a restaurant. This should not be difficult.
You stand up, you walk out the door, and you get into the car. This should take
five minutes, ten if you need to set the security alarm and make sure the cat
has food.
Instead, two hours. No one is prepared to
actually leave the house, even though we have all been up for hours and
everyone has bathed. Everyone is dressed. Makeup has been applied. Yet all
these people still have last-minute things that they need to take care of
before we can leave.
So people are stomping all over the house,
doing who knows what the hell, and no one is getting in the van. No one. The
departure announcement has been made, people. Get your asses out here. I’m in
the driver’s seat, ready to go.
No one in sight. Tumbleweeds blow past and a
cow moos.
So I go back in the house. Everyone looks the
same. In fact, they appear to be in the same positions as when I left the house
to start the car thirty minutes earlier. What are you doing? Come ON!
Still, we spend more time gathering things
that nobody needs, changing blouses that looked just fine the first time, and
thoroughly inspecting the contents of purses that will never be opened during
the entire journey.
Finally, when I’m just shy of pulling out a
cattle prod (no need to ask why I happen to own one), we get everybody in the
van. Then it’s another thirty minutes while people jostle around, switching
seats, adjusting car seats for the little ones, screwing with the seatbelts,
arguing over who gets the window and who gets shotgun, and having to wait while
people check their purse for the fourth time to ensure that they still have the
things that they will never need.
Eventually, and several gray hairs later, we
are able to close all vehicle doors. I maneuver down the driveway, but pause
before pulling out into the street. I know from experience that we need
confirmation of the destination. When you are dealing with ten people having
sidebar conversations about food, there will often be furtive executive
decisions made where you didn’t get the email.
“So, we’re still going to Ingrid’s House of
Pasta, right?”
Total silence.
“Okay, somebody say something. Yes or no.
Ingrid’s?”
Total silence.
I am now gnawing on the steering wheel to
keep me sane.
Then a small voice from somewhere in the
back: “Well…”
I jerk my head up and look in the rearview
mirror. “Who said that? Somebody in the third row. I see movement. Show your
face.”
Everyone is still as stone.
“Fine.” I start to put the van in gear.
“Ingrid’s it is.”
From the back again: “But we were thinking…”
I turn off the engine, take a deep breath,
force my eyes to bulge in an obvious display of lunacy, and whip around to face
the demons behind me. “Okay, here’s the deal. You will come to a decision, and
you will come to a decision NOW. I am not starting this car until every single
one of you is in complete rapture about our destination. Do. You. Understand.
Me?”
Total silence.
