Super Sunday
Larry’s been jockeying for a new job within his company for quite awhile, and last week it all came to a head. After a few days of office politics that made ColbyCo look like a day at the beach, all worked out last Friday and he’ll be starting a new job in a month. Woo hoooo.
In the midst of our boozefest celebration Friday night, he says, “You know, I haven't had a turkey dinner since Thanksgiving, why don’t you make one on Sunday for Super Bowl?”
Without properly thinking things through, I sent out a quick 2 a.m. invitation via Blackberry and woke up Saturday morning committed to a mid-winter’s Thanksgiving feast.
So I shopped on Saturday, cooked on Sunday and had a small but tasteful (and tasty, I might add) gathering last night. We ate turkey, sausage stuffing, corn soufflé, carrots, mashed potatoes, kick-ass gravy. And some cocktails and wine, natch. Connie brought a pecan pie that was like candy in a pastry shell and MAK supplied a pumpkin pie that doubles as a delicious breakfast treat.
And we watched the game, Crash and his cute friend S. helping to ‘splain it to those who couldn’t tell a jock from a dance belt. Evidently it was a winning mix of people, ‘cause the conversation flowed and we didn’t even notice Janet’s boob [insert turkey joke here re: breasts being white meat]. Being the good gay children we are, we opted to watch SATC during the 3rd quarter.
Good times.
We used to entertain more, and last night reminded me how much I like having people over. Towards the end of the night, Con and I were out on the balcony, sucking on fags (yes, I’ve become reacquainted with Mr. Marlboro Light) and I looked at the scene inside. I was struck by this great group of people, friends old and new, sitting around enjoying each other in our humble little abode. I’d go on about it being chilly outside and being warmed by the sight of it all, but I’m fresh out of insulin.
Suffice to say, I’m a lucky boy.