Since getting back from Tampa, I have been exhausted, but pulled myself together to go to a surprise birthday party for a friend of Ed’s from the ombudsman program he recently resigned from in order to become a guardian. It was held nearby at an Italian restaurant that once had an elegant dining room with white tablecloths. New owners have it looking like a sports bar. They have an outdoor area in the rear, next to a canal, with a bandstand and have live music most nights. The party was in this area. Most of the tables were picnic style with benches you had to climb over in order to sit. This arrangement was awkward, even for flexible me. The music was too loud, a social affliction that will destroy all civilization one day.

I had a frozen margarita and later a white wine. I could easily have spent the entire time just drinking margeritas, but said no when the waitress came around again. I wondered how the food would be handled. The hostess solved everything by ordering pizzas, a veggie and a pepperoni. I had one slice of pepperoni. We left after two hours while the party went on much longer. It was the music that drove us away. The invite said 5 to 11. No way.

Ed and I dressed nicely which was a mistake. Jeans and sneakers would have been more comfortable in this setting. As I keep telling Ed, we can’t go native or we’ll sink into the swamp and never be heard from again.

Xx, Teal