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October 12, 2004
i think that's mine
I was on the phone, waiting for my sister to finish her sentence so I could pause the conversation and tell my guest there was some grub on the stove. It was simple fare: whole wheat spaghetti with some concoction by Paul Newman for sauce.
"Hang on, sis, I got some hospitality duties...hey Dude? There's some spaghetti on in the kitchen if you're hungry." And then I resumed talking to my sister.
Now it's four hours later, and I'm sitting here cataloging the jittery physiological afterplay of embarrassment, of mortification, of chastisement. Apparently something was not so good about my week.
First off, I gotta say, I feel for the guy. He's hooked to transient buddies these days, and they're all dragging around, sounding out their new pond, looking for a place to land. It's stress city in three movements, and this weekend two of the movers were tuning their tympany in my pit.
And I do mean pit. A few days ago I woke up to discover my guest was cleaning house. Mortified and grateful, what could I do but pitch in? My house was abysmal. Some people say that when their housecleaning is a trifle off. My housecleaning is a trifle off a Filipino dump. Housing chickens in such conditions is flat out disrespectful. Housing guests in this mess is staggeringly inconsiderate. I know that.
I didn't know those fellers were coming, but that's not the point. For my dearest friends I don't need to know. For a brother in need I resolve to set aside my hermetic embarrassment, open my door, and vacate my sofa or my couch.
But I don't know that it was my mason d'mess which etched the umbrage. Did I say something unkind? Was I consistently brutish? Am I a Republican?
If there's a point to your lesson I hope I get it. And if I get it, I hope that's not the end of the story. If that's the end of the story, then you really did leave with something of mine, something I'll be missing. I am a manifestly poor host in many ways. But what I give, I always give from the heart. If Bush wins this election like I think he will, you may certainly crash on my couch. But if you're coming, come back as a friend, and bring back my fucking dignity.
Posted by joel at October 12, 2004 10:56 PM
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Comments
DJ's a neat freak? Who knew? Do you think that's natural or Navy? (Hi, you, Havlhoo. A man who cleans, huh? That's not a bad thing at all. What could have possibly gone wrong?) And also, I like vodka sauce. Just wanted to say it.
I like the fact that you, CJ, are to the point in your life where you'll say the stuff you've got to say. I applaud all the noises coming from the pit, 'cuz I'm too stupid to know that you all haven't begun to play (nice.)
What do they say? Moving, divorce and death are three of the most stressful experiences people go through. Y'all peoples have a bad intersection of needs going on right now, huh? I feel for yous. It'll get better. Go to your happy place. Bush might not win. :-)
Posted by: honest + popular at October 13, 2004 03:45 AM
Did I forget to say the spaghetti was the bomb? Did I, in my attempt to repay you for your hospitality, offend you? And to answer everyone's queries, I'm about as far from being a neat freak as Bryant Gumbel is from being a member of the Black Panther Party. You should see my room. Anyway.
The last line has me humming. And my post was a joke, I swear. There were no barbed fences running through your yard in that one. If I've thus far failed to mention it is so, you have by far the most comfortable couch on which I've ever crashed. And for that sir, you have all the praise. All of it.
Posted by: Daryk Jozef Havlicek at October 13, 2004 04:59 AM
Ok. I guess I overreacted. Sorry about that.
Low grade headache for the last several days, maybe that's my excuse. I'm usually better at taking a joke, I swear. Ask John.
It was good having you guys around for a few days. Hope you apartment hunt down in Nashtown goes well.
Posted by: Joel at October 13, 2004 12:58 PM
I am really disappointed here, fellas. I look to you all for thrilling highs and lows and here this is only a garden variety misunderstanding. And, of course there will be no make up sex or even kissing (or even any makeup of any sort because you all are no doubt too manly to wear it.) I swear! (I'm kidding.) And now I have to go watch my stories.
And, yes, it IS a comfy couch, and I DO want some of that pasta, dammit, and I hope everybody gets what they need- in Nashville or Nantucket as the case may be. Be well, honkey- ummm, macaroons or muffin pans. H+P decrees it.
(I just like the sound of it. Nobody ever really does what I say.)
Posted by: honest + popular at October 13, 2004 05:12 PM
What? What? What?
What are you people talking about? Fucking dignity? Did CJ just say fucking dignity? I'm confused. And what's more, now it's over. Apparently.
Posted by: k_sra at October 14, 2004 07:52 AM
This started out as a thank you to Joel and others that had so benevolently given John and I warm places to sleep; but like all my best ideas, it quickly got distracted into a game of me trying to make myself laugh. Sure, I enjoy the fact that others read me, but I don't count on it happening... And I certainly didn't think anyone (particularly CJ) would take me seriously after reading paragraphs 2 and 3. But I can see how it could've been misconstrued from Joel's perspective, and I still feel bad about that. No quick solution. In fact, I felt bad after we departed when I remembered we'd pulled Joel's grill over near the porch and not moved it back when we were done with it.
I'm not a particularly talkative bastard anyway (as I'm sure Lydia can now attest), so you never really know what I'm thinking. And it's not because I have nothing to say normally, but more often because I'm gauging my place or doubting my input is nessecary.
Joel, if you ever need a place to stay, call me. Or if you're just in Nashville and want a place to crash, I swear that I will kick McAdams out of his room so you can sleep in style.
Posted by: Daryk Jozef Havlicek at October 15, 2004 08:26 PM
*sigh* He cleans, he feels a sense of responsibility where making a contribution is concerned, he addresses misunderstandings with friends instead of letting stuff fester, he returns favors- dammit this man is my hero! DJ, if you ever need somebody to sing your praises to any Nashville cuties, holler at your girl, 'cuz I will swear on a stack of dusty family bibles that you got some good stuff going on there.
I swear, decent men always make the world look like a better place.
Posted by: honest + popular at October 16, 2004 10:24 AM
Ah, I see... sort of. Thanks for clarifying.
Posted by: k_sra at October 18, 2004 12:56 PM
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