vendredi 3 juin 2005

Vroom vroom.

You know things are just odd when you go to a BBQ, where there are TWO single guys and like 15 girls (about half of whom are unattached), and the ONLY phone number that gets exchanged is when you give your pseudo-boyfriend's number to your friend's cute male roommate. Dammit, 10 minutes alone with cute roommate, and I could've had a date. But that wasn't to be, there were too many people milling around.

And I say pseudo-boyfriend.. well, to make a long story short, Nicky and I now go to so many social engagements together (including an upcoming wedding which we are going to WITH HIS FAMILY) that it's like the platonic stage of dating, you know, before you kiss or sleep together or even hold hands. Except this is as far as it's going to get. So really, it's like he's your gay boyfriend. Or shit, maybe you're the gay partner in this relationship, but you're not! Really! You're just cute with good conversational skills, especially when drunk! And really, the friend's cute roommate? So much more your speed. And he's an engineer! Who hates lawyers!* With great taste in wine! Bonus!

(Oh yes, cute roommate wanted Nicky's number because he's heard of him and his soccer prowess and REALLY wants Nicky to play on his summer soccer team. Boys. It's so cute when they talk about sports. Except when it's football, basketball, or baseball).

Anyhow... you know you love your hot dogs when you're watching a movie, and then the characters are in this restaurant, and you squeal VERY excitedly when you realise after about, oh, 2 seconds that it's the interior of this hot dog place that you love. That hot dog article in the NYTimes last Wednesday? Right up your alley too. Yum. Anyway, that's perhaps a fitting intro to our white trash BBQ:

I mean, why WOULDN'T you want to come to this party? I keep accidentally calling it the "white trash" or "redneck" party, but have been told that those are politically-incorrect terms and that's why we're sticking with "lowbrow" and tractor racing. Being PC is boring. By the way, for our responses...
"Call me John Deere!" = yes, I am attending
"I can't decide whether to shit or get off the pot" = maybe
"I drink with my pinky finger extended..." = I am a party pooper (ie, no)
It's even more funny, because nobody really gets the tractor racing joke aside from Tweedle and myself. It's even funnier because it's truly confused some of our friends from foreign countries, who don't understand the whole white trash concept, let alone tractor racing. I've had to do a lot of explaining the past couple of days.

However, there are those who, even if they don't get the joke, respond in kind. For instance, Emily wrote:
Being from VT, I'm an expert at lowbrow! I also may be able to help you out on the grill issue. I'll bring some Schlitz, some Jell-o dessert, and my uncle/boyfriend. Well, maybe I'll leave him at home this time ;-) Also- John Deere was born in my hometown.
To which Laura responded:
I plan to split a case of Schlitz with Emily and get blind drunk until **suddenly!** I realize that her uncle/boyfriend is my cousin/lover and I try to bitch slap her into next week and leave in handcuffs. Thanks for inviting me!
So Emily amended her response, adding:
Laura! That must mean we're related!!!!
More amusing responses:
I'll bring my fave Brooks and Dunn and Travis Trit and and some watermelon for a spitting contest. Yee-haw!

My grand pappy loved his fordson tractor, and I plan to love me some natty light jus' as well come this there Tractor race BBQ...'tell you what

I prefer Natty Bo, but Natty light will do.

Can I bring my woman? I promise she won't speak unless spoken to.
We are even getting little motorised tractors (maybe along the lines of this) so that people can race them up and down the driveway. We also bought a very large vessel from which we will serve our mystery punch that we might even give away as a raffle prize of some sort. Seriously. This will be so much fun.

*He had a law student as tenant once who kept trying to sue him. And I'm sorry if this statement offends the disproportionately large legal-related readership I have, which begs another question - why so many? I love each and every one of you, but it confuses me, really. Anyway, his not being a lawyer is a gigantic point in his favour given my dating history. Or maybe it shouldn't be. I don't know.