On Thursday evening Sherry and I had a date with our old friend The Sheriff. Been far too long since we’ve seen him, and given that the point of the get together was to drink scotch and smoke cigars, it was definitely something to look forward to. (Which is why he forgot to mention to his wife that “chicks are coming over”) til mid-afternoon that day…
The Sheriff lives in a lovely, posh neighbourhood, so it was, of course, important that Sherry and I bring our unique brand of class to the proceedings. When raindrops and thunder put the kibosh on our deck-sitting festivities, since we didn’t want to give up the cigars portion of the evening, we did what any classy dames (and dude) would do and adjourned to the garage.
We opened the big door, and arranged our chairs, table, and snacks to continue the delicious pollution of the temples of our bodies. And, of course, discuss important cultural issues like how you know you’ve “arrived” societally-speaking when you have “a guy” to do stuff, and the more guys you have, and the more specific their jobs, the better. (E.g. ideally The Sheriff would have a different guy to sweep up the cigar ash than he would to sweep up the chip crumbs.)
We explained various interwebs phenomena to The Sheriff (poor thing is too busy ruling the world to keep up on stuff like lolcats and WoW). We spun yarns and told tales (we shared some wacky times in the workplace, but from very different perspectives, oftentimes) and agreed that The Princess Bride is certainly among the finest films ever made.
When the mosquitos started to eat our feet, we moved back into the house and took up residence in the cavernous basement, where we failed to get the enormous TV to work correctly. (“Just two minutes! I only want to show you two minutes of this one thing!”) Fascinating insights into the balances of work and family life were discussed, as were topics about where women’s most effective place in the work world might be. (Hint: not necessarily directing all their energies towards bashing against the middle management glass ceiling, though we agreed that environment is totally a sausage party.)
All in all, a fine evening with splendid company. Perhaps we’ll kick back in Sherry’s backyard next time. And I tried two scotches I’d never tasted before, and Sherry had her first cigar. I’ll totally have to introduce The Sheriff to the Amish Palmas, since it’s like smoking dessert, and how delightful is that? 🙂