Wedding Leftovers and A Couple of New Things

I forgot last time (because I was so busy reliving that raw bar, I think) to mention our quite bizarre train ride to Long Island.

Sarah's boyfriend Seth, my friend Caesar and I all took the train out to Port Jefferson. The first half of the trip was uneventful (except for Caesar, who is as urban a product as I am, doing a variation of are we there yet? which made me want to smack him one). However, after we changed trains at Huntington, things got extremely peculiar.

We got on the train and sat down, only to discover that we were about three rows back from one of the nelliest drag queens I have seen in years (the type has gone out of style). He was wearing a full length very fluffy fox fur coat, I may add. He had somehow hooked up with two young college students (I think they were 21, since going to a bar after they got off the train was mentioned, but they sure as hell couldn't have been any older) who were theatre majors, and the three had (in separate productions) all done The Rocky Horror Show. The children, naturally, had done Brad and Janet, and the drag queen had done Frank N. Furter.

Well, they were having a hell of a time. They ran through the score of the show - I actually thought for a minute that they were going to do the Time Warp in the aisle (in which I would definitely have joined - I love Rocky Horror).

So they were enjoying themselves thoroughly, and the drag queen was giving them little snippets of his act - he did a wonderful Joan Rivers routine - when all of a sudden a man who was sitting across the aisle from them broke into the conversation (which he'd been following with every evidence of enjoyment) to announce that they probably had heard of him - he was the guy who had his face bitten off by a Rottweiler. No, please don't ask me why he thought this would be a great intro to the other three. It was just wildly bizarre and came totally out of left field.

At this point the train was coming into Port Jefferson and we were all - kids, drag queen, the three of us and Rottweiler man - standing by the door to get off, while the Rottweiler gent entertained us with a description of his injuries and the operations it took to fix his face (I think he said that his lips were grafted from his kneecaps, but I was REALLY trying not to listen to this). By the way, the drag queen was getting increasingly huffy on account of the attention was off her...and we all got off the train and trooped off to our various destinations. I was actually kind of sorry the drag queen wasn't one of the wedding guests, but these things happen.

And last night, Sarah and Seth and I went to Spiegeltent to see Absinthe! It was wonderful. It was also extremely filthy in spots, and hysterically funny. The host and hostess were directly out of Cabaret - decadent Wiemar Republic stuff - and they did things with bananas I wouldn't even try to describe. Then there was the lady who did the little dance/strip with the enormous blown-up condom, ending up wearing a tasteful spangled G-string and burst condom bits...that's a little hard to explain, too, particularly how she got herself all the way inside it. And wonderful acrobats, including a ten year old who has to be seen to be believed (no cliches, here). The tickets were a wonderful present - a million thanks, Ross (and Gill)!

Then I got home and was trying to get the damn door unlocked, since Joshua insists on locking the middle lock, which means I have to futz with two keys instead of one, when I heard a rustling in the shrubbery. (Nobody has to bring us a shrubbery in my garden - we've got tons.) Well, there CERTAINLY should NOT have been any rustling out there (the wind had died down), so I redoubled my efforts with the door - and managed to break the middle lock and get inside, but not before I saw some guy in a grayish hoodie about four feet from me coming in my direction. IN MY DAMN FRONT YARD!

Obviously I got in, obviously I'm unhurt - and I'm damn glad that I broke the stupid middle lock because Caesar and Sarah and I have all told Joshua that it's dangerous, on our quiet and dark street (and don't forget the shrubbery) to have to stand there late at night and fumble with two different keys. NOW he understands. We hope.

The best part, however, was this morning. I went out to get the papers (tastefully attired in my usual Sunday morning get the papers outfit - fuzzy pink and white pajamas and a trenchcoat - elegance lives), and I ran into our horrible next door neighbors, the ones who hate us and once tried to buy Sarah's bedroom from me. In the interests of keeping people aware, I told them about last night, and they both looked at me, half-smiling, and told me that they had seen this guy in the garden about ten minutes before I came home.

I BEG YOUR GODDAM PARDON? You're telling me that you saw an intruder in our gated front garden and did abso-fucking-lutely NOTHING? You didn't call the cops, you didn't go out on your balcony and shout to get him out of there...and this after that meeting with the community affairs cop where you guys were so grown-up and adult and all saying we must all be very careful? You just sort of went, Oh, he's not trying to get into our house, let's go to bed now.

You can be completely sure that I promptly spread this story all over every other one of my neighbors I saw today. These people aren't liked to begin with - now they'll never, ever be flavor of the month.

Can you even imagine this kind of behavior?

Growl. I'm going to go eat dinner. I'm actually quite proud of myself today - I went to the grocery store with my pitiful little stack of money, and managed to get all kinds of food (enough to keep me all week if Joshua doesn't get into it) for exactly $19.57. Two big pork chops, enough chop meat to make three hefty hamburgers, a can of Progresso white clam sauce, which I love, a pack of hot dogs, and a decent amount of salad - and four cans of cat food, because I can't eat all of the above with any kind of satisfaction if I have to keep shoving eager paws off my plate. Obviously, by the way, these main dish sorts of things complement the staples I keep around the house anyway - I've got rice to go with pork chops and salad, and potatoes to go with a hamburger and salad, and pork and beans to go with hot dogs and even some frozen chicken to go with whatever's left over. So I'm set. Bored, but set.

Now, will somebody please ask me out to dinner? (I'm easy - Per Se will do nicely.)

Love, Wendy