Well, I officially hate working weekends. I only unofficially hated it before. But now it’s official.
Omigod, that barbecue last night was just awful. My mother only really has two friends. Aunt Fran and this woman from her work, Kathy. But Lou’s a different story. Lou has a lot of friends. And they’re all very strange people.
So while Zooey and I were trying to just be a presence at my parent’s barbecue and keep to ourselves, all of these creepy old “Lou-friends” kept talking—no, hitting—on us. That’s right, Lou’s friends apparently are just “friendly” like that.
The problem is you have to be polite because we live in a polite society. So when the old creep-o is like, “It’s getting hot, it’s almost bikini weather, isn’t it girls? I remember one year you two girls had a squirt gun fight. You don’t do that anymore, do you?”
You can’t tell the guy off and be like, “we were probably 13 years old when that happened and I can only assume you’re bringing it up because that made an impression on you and you’d like to see us in our bikinis now so you can ogle us without being a complete pervert.”
Instead we just said, “no, sorry.”
Thankfully, Uncle Roger is overprotective of Zooey and immediately played interference by asking creep-o about the best type of rain gutters.
And if Lou’s friends weren’t creepy enough, Daryl actually had some of his friends there, too. Fortunately none of them were brave enough to bother us.
Also, Vince was mysteriously absent from the party. Zooey said that he had stuff to do. She didn’t clarify.
Not that I can really talk. Johnny didn’t want to come. He was setting up our apartment.