The elderly gentleman shook his head in dismay. "Alas, the fateful day has arrived. Tonight I shall accompany Mr. Frowny Pants to the art exhibit downtown." He knew it was coming since Sunday. He'd been dreading this moment all week. Well, all of Monday and Tuesday, that is. Now, at five o'clock he pointed his 1998 Chrysler LeBaron north toward the small town where Mr. Frowny Pants lived. He had only agreed to go on Tuesday in order to offset the uncomfortable moment in which he had wiggled out of an invitation to go on Sunday. At his age, Sundays left him exhausted and he couldn't brook the idea of going out with this incredibly boorish man.
Mr. Frowny Pants belonged to the family club over which the elderly gentleman presided. In fact, the only reason the elderly gentleman even tolerated this poster child for hypocrisy and two-faced flatterers was to ensure that his family could continue to attend the club's monthly meetings, an activity they had enjoyed these past fifteen odd years. "He is too sensitive," the elderly gentleman grumbled to his wife as they were preparing for bed on Sunday. "Any little thing can set him off and you usually don't even have the luxury of knowing what it was until he's already blown up and disintegrated." She shook her head and patted his hand. "You don't have to stay gone all night. Just go and get it over with and get back home to me," she said sleepily. "I wish you could go along." "Nothing doing," was her abrupt reply.
So, for three and a half hours the elderly gentleman nodded his head and made small talk while deftly sidestepping Mr. Frowny Pants unrelenting attempts at gossip and information digging. When finally the internal timer went off, the elderly gentleman quickly dropped the irritating Mr. Frowny Pants off and hurried home to blog about the experience.
At least Mr. Frowny Pants will be in a better mood for about two more weeks until he needs another shot of special attention from the man at the top. Sheeesh!