... in bed!

Wow... just... wow. So I'm out to dinner with Courtney, Jen, and Brian (apparently there was a little too much pep for Mallorie's taste), and upon arrival at the restaurant, we see a big party. No one can do anything worse than be in a big close-knit group who draws a lot of attention to themselves when I'm in the area. You know you're going to end up getting blogged about. I honestly don't even know where to start with this crew. It was a wedding reception for an old couple. They apparently finally figured out the key to happiness. As the man said in one of many toasts (I'll get to the incessant toasting in a moment) "Happy wife, happy life." This was all well and good until we left the restaurant and heard him giving her hell about something or other to the tune of "Listen, when I tell you something, I expect you to pay attention to me... yadda yadda drunken yadda."

There was a very confusing seating situation where there seemed to be a teenage girl making a little too nice with a guy who we assumed was the girl's mother's boyfriend. That was... really something.

Now, on to the toasts. It was endearing at first: the newlywed wife got up and gave a liiiiitle talk, followed by her husband, who dropped the "happy wife" line, claiming it to be an ancient Chinese proverb. Sure. Then the two witnesses gave their little toast too. We assumed it all to be over from our vantage point, but we couldn't have been more wrong. Apparently this new "happy wife" took a bit of an extra shine to the power of the "tap your fork against your glass to get everyone's attention" thing. I think in the following ten minutes she popped up with something she forgot or some new realization that came to her between swigs of champagne. I think two separate "ching chings" were dedicated to the sister, who not only came from Hawaii to be there for the big day but also shipped the flowers which were on the table... all the way from HILO! Then came the final and decisive "stand up and speak" moment, when she decided she had to read her fortune cookie to everyone, and do the "in bed" game with it. Now don't get me wrong, I've done the in bed thing a few times. But you know what? I outgrew it. When I hit puberty. Apparently this woman still had the rollicking good time that the kids on "Beverly Hills 90210" the time they did it back in the early nineties. Sadly, no one slipped her the memo that the "in bed" deal went out of fashion before the show was cancelled. Hell, it went out of fashion before Nat decided to open up the "Peach Pit After Dark". "Now Bill" you're all saying, "Aren't you being a little harsh? It was a celebration and she'd had a few." Yes, and I respect your candor in calling me on the carpet like that. However, here's the thing: she insisted that everyone read their fortune in the same manner, preferably when standing up as well. Even the teenager. And the other kid who was like ten-ish. That's a line. I think even other people around the table were a little weirded out about that one. Thank heavens the teenager politely declined.

All in all, I think the coup de grâce of the evening was when we were leaving. One of the older drunk uncles was trying to make nice with one of the waitresses (one of the ones who is probably younger than me, for the record) and tried to kiss her hand, which she promptly yanked away before he could get close to it. After he'd left, dejected, the married couple came back in to thank the staff one more time for their help and hospitality. The entire time the "happy wife" was talking she was bowing. I mean fucking bowing. You know what I'm talking about. Like full on silly drinking bird toy with the water bowing. Like nineteen forties Charlie Chan bowing. Like, looking for the guy with the silk pajamas to say "me so sorry" bowing. There's one little problem with this: bowing isn't part of Chinese culture. They do a subtle head nod. The bowing is really Japanese, and also is around some in Hong Kong, but not China.

Yes, I'm a jerk. These people were having fun and relatively minding their own business. But I'm on a friggin role here, people. No detail can be spared. Fortunately, if you read this, you probably are friendly with me, and therefore exempt from being raked over the coals of my ridicule. Everyone else is fair game. If those folks didn't want to be blogged about, they should have found a restaurant with a private room. Remember folks: blog mockery happens.

Another fascinating tidbit about myself... apparently I even quote movies in my dreams. As most of you know, I lace much of my conversations (and blogs for that matter) with random pop culture references. So I had a dream recently in which a friend, I won't name who, was wearing pants that were having zipper issues. After another friend and I swapped snarky one-liners about "pants malfunctions" we apparently start busting out lines from Superbad: "See, the basic problem is that there aren't enough pants where there should be pants... he needs to upgrade, big time." Have I watched the movie in the last few weeks? No. Am I just so odd that I can quote movies at will in my sleep? Apparently so.