"Sorry about the mess."

Flipper appeared at my doorstep on Trumping Eve.

“I come bearing hugs and coupons for ice cream,” she said.

We got Hagen Dazs, and over a four-hour period I ate the following:

-two cheeseburgers
-one arteries’ worth of French fries
-many spoonfuls of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream
-two pina coladas
-Half a bag of Blast ‘O Butter popcorn, garnished with Kraft Cheese Topping, which is essentially the bag of orange powder used to create Kraft Macaroni and Cheese in canned form
-Furor

It was a very productive evening.

Also productive was the following Friday, for which we’d made plans to express our youthful freedom while expanding our social horizons, also known as slathering on foundation, tromping into a piano bar four minutes before the cover charge starts and sipping on $9 screwdrivers while attempting to catch the eye of vacationing insurance adjusters from Topeka. Oh, we do party, here in The Swamp.

But Flipper spent Friday rerouting cruise ships away from a Category 3 hurricane for The Mouse On Water, which for some reason made her tiiiiiiiiiiiiiered, so she needed a nap. I, however, had devoted the day to conducting important scientific experiments involving how many times I could change positions while reading in bed before needing to readjust the sheets, so I, too, needed a nap. And after she woke up, Flipper called me and she was all, “Do you really want to go out?” and I admitted that we were old now, and boring, and therefore might as well go the whole nine. Thus did we pass the evening in front of TGIF on ABC, wondering where that simply hilarious Bob Saget show went, and then we watched a documentary about the making of the Star Wars trilogy, complete with post-viewing discussion questions. So: not only did we not go out, we actually conducted a half-hour, very serious debate over why Yoda sent Luke to battle Darth Vader when it seemed that the likely outcomes were either turning to the dark side or getting sliced in half; what exactly the prophecy “bring balance to the Force” meant; and at which point in world history George Lucas officially went batshit insane and started thinking that things like Natalie Portman and revising sacred character development so that Greedo shot first were really good ideas. And then we wondered why we were alone.

However, the documentary featured forty seconds of footage featuring Harrison Ford tied to a stake (Han Solo On A Stick, coming to a county fair near you) while his head rested on a pillow, so hey. Cheaper thrill than the screwdrivers. Way cheaper than obtaining an actual social life.

Social life leaving from Docking Bay 94 at: blondechampagne@hotmail.com