Blogtember Day 13:
The Dreaded Dinner Party
To say I was dreading the dinner party would be the understatement of the century. I would much rather pull a “Lady Gaga” and cover myself in raw meat while standing in a cave full of bears.
I should have known better then to say yes, but this couple seems different and my husband and I could use the adult conversation. Maybe I should have suggested a restaurant or inviting them here instead. You just never know what you’ll run into when you go to a strangers home.
I suppose it can’t be too bad, Roxy is dressed normal enough and her husband doesn’t look like a slob. Their cart is full of the usual family food staples and they are easy to joke with as we wait in the checkout line.
If only I had known what was beneath the painted exterior – what would be waiting for us in that house.
We arrive promptly at 7, we don’t want to pop in early and showing up late is just rude. It is nice two story brick home, with lovely white shutters and the perfect picket fence to match. It’s outward, neatly kept perfection would put June Cleaver’s home to shame.
However, once you step through the door, the vibe goes from overly perky “Brady bunch” to the Adams family. I’m half expecting Lurch to ask me for my coat, or Thing to hop on my back and take it. Neither of those things happen but it would’ve been suiting.
Being fairly open to people’s different lifestyles I don’t put much more thought into the black painted walls and animals skulls lining the hall. We make pleasant conversation as we are lead to a large table with slightly strange lumps of what I believe to be food…or at least that is what it is suppose to be.
As we walk around the table, I noticed tiny signs that label the dishes. I soon have my answer to where all the animal skulls came from, as I read “Monkey brains” “Sheep brains” ….”Cow Balls?” Did I read that right? I hope that it means meatballs, but the firm rubbery looking texture is saying otherwise.
We can’t be rude, I hate when people are rude, and they went through so much work. I don’t imagine a monkey comes off his brains very easily. People eat all kinds of food, I can’t hate them for having different taste.
Then it happens, the thing I can’t possibly stick around for. They suddenly rip off their seeming normal clothes to reveal leather garments that would have a hard time covering a straw, let alone these people.
Part of me wants to shrug it off, maybe I gave them the wrong idea. Perhaps they think we are swingers and I can just explain the mix up. I’m at least tempted to try. That is, until they began smearing the random platter of brains, and balls all over themselves. Now it’s time for my husband and I to hit the road – running.
I thought the last couple who had 40 cats was bad but this was just insane. I think we’ll stick to dinners alone and the same ole’ conversation…but at least now we have a new story to add to the list.