2003-01-25

There are things in life that just set me on edge. Precocious children, themed restaurants, and designer knockoffs spring immediately to mind. Tonight I had the rather unfortunate task of experiencing all three of them together, melding into one hellacious mire that only the liberal application of alcohol to numb the senses (and hopefully kill any itinerate germs) has restored me to a somewhat calm state.

This evening marked the chosen day of celebration for a younger distantly related cousin. Actually, the relationship is different, as I�m a second cousin to the parent, his mother and my mother being first cousins. I think they are first cousins. I have no clue at this point. The Stoly is not allowing me to place the hierarchy. Some cousin to the th degree. Regardless, a child with whom I am related at some point on a family tree was celebrating a birthday party at Chuck E Cheese and out of familial obligation I agreed to go. Not that it mattered, as anyone that would have been impressed by my sacrificing of a Friday evening was not in attendance. The sister and husband were unable to attend, due to some traveling on my sister�s part leaving her out of town. And that freed up the Husband from attending. I missed her as there were no less than three Burberry knockoffs in attendance, one of such poor fauxness that one had to question the reasoning behind it. I think rather than the street or one of those purse parties that are all the rage, this woman picked up her bag at Ross and THOUGHT she was getting something and was to stupid to realize it was Hunt Club. My sister and this child are very close as she was his sitter back when she was in college and needed some extra cash for a new Betsy Johnson dress or Marc Jacobs top. I never figured out her knack for getting rich people to pay her ungodly sums of money to watch their little dividends for an evening. The little dividend in question was ignoring all the fuss being made over him by throwing a tantrum because he couldn�t open up his Hogwart�s Castle Lego set, not even to get out the Harry Potter. Which really was unreasonable of the parents, I mean, what better place for a Lego set than the crowded restaurant full of singing rodentia. All the gifts were Harry Potter Lego sets. I was assigned mine, as I imagine was everyone else. Quidditch Practice, if you must know. The party favors where Harry Potter, as were the napkins, plates, tablecloths, etc. One rather inane parent remarked that it was just like being at Hogwarts, with all the kids and things. There was laughter. I fought a gag reflex, although it could have been the cardboard and grease masquerading as pizza. The children were let loose after the presents to use the facilities. I was a �dear� by playing with them, but that basically meant I would participate in the games of skill that they threw their game tokens away on. They would then gleefully gather my hard won tickets and saunter off to the counter to exchange them for cheap plastic baubles that would not survive the ride home. The absolute worst part of the evening came near the end where I was elected to go into the play structure to retrieve an insolent child. I was helping one rather clumsy girl get into her Barbie stride rites when I heard a sentence that chilled my heart. �That�s it, I�m sending William in to get you!� I stood up in shock, not quite comprehending the job that I had just been volunteered for. �I�m too big�, I protested however signs about the place did not post an age or weight limit, foolish in our litigious society. In outright defiance of the large rat at the entrance I did not remove my shoes, mainly because I didn�t trust that they would be there when I got back. Then the thought of scuffing the toes bade me reconsider, so I entrusted them to the care of the parent whose child I was removing from the bowls of the play structure. She couldn�t go after her as she was so dry and brittle that I imagine the risk of spontaneous combustion from an errant spark inside those plastic tubes to be a real hazard. Her friend was of a dimension that should she enter the tunnels, only liberal applications of a greasing agent and the application of a rather large wedge would dislodge her again, despite making the event memorable and thus saving the evening from ruin. Alas, no, it fell to me by virtue of age. Not that I�m young, just younger than everyone else. Or maybe it was because I was sans child and thus not fully accepted into their ranks. So, shoeless I ventured forth, the wayward child treating it like a game of tag, one that her mental abilities rather didn�t make the grade for, although in her defense, she was amped up on soft drinks, cake, and every flavor beans. But her foolish flight choices were abetted by her being wily, quick, and dealing with an environment designed with her dimensions in mind. Plus, she had help, rather quickly. Everyone wanted to play the game in this giant human habitrail. My temper wore a bit thin in there, I was hot, surrounded by filthy ragamuffins with pizza remains all over them trying to catch a child who loved to shriek at the top of her lungs whenever I would get close, her high pitch voice reverberating through the plastic tubes. I finally managed to corner her and was perhaps a little rough on my handling as we exited, however I was able to pass it off as displeasure at the party�s conclusion. �She just didn�t want to leave�, I said as I apologetically handed her off, getting my shoes back in the process. I got the better deal. I then helped cart the presents to the car while the cousinth was swapping tickets for crap at the counter. While loading, I noticed the woman with the horrid fake getting into a Toyota Previa with a license plate frame that said The Seventh Day is the Sabbath. Oh, I thought. She�s in one of those strange Christian sects. No wonder she was shopping at Ross. �Next year�, I said, turning to my cousin as he closed the hatch on the SUV, �you should have it on a Sunday�.

previous � next � older

Email Notes Guestbook

Profile