That's right, the dreaded graduation weekend has passed. On Tuesday I peeked my head out of my compound and found that the smoke had cleared, the people had gone, and now summer can officially begin. There is something wonderful about living in a college town once the kids leave. I mean, there are a few students around, enough to make things interesting, but it's like the town settles down, takes a deep breath, and gets ready to relax for the next three months. Except in my town. Because it's also a tourist town. So now everyone is putting on their tourism hats and getting ready for the never ending stream of RV's and SUV's that will begin rolling in in about, oh, say eighteen minutes or so.
But that's fine. I actually did venture out of my hole during the graduation weekend twice, once on Saturday and once on Sunday, which I know violates everything. But that's okay. Because lately I've had to go to graduation EVERY SEMESTER. And since Egypt was graduating I went. I was very excited because his family and friends, including his infamous father were in town. So I hauled myself, in shirt and tie, down to graduation. I sat through the speeches, I read through all the names, I even made friends with Super Cute Baby across the isle (Yeah, we played peek-a-booh, wanna fight about it?). And after the ceremony David Nathaniel and Sister and I waded through the people and to where the graduates have milled around since time immortal (or at least since the building was built in 1991) and found Egypt. And that's when he informed me that his family had left as soon as he had walked across the stage. And that is when I lost it.
Seriously, what's with that? Half of his family was here from New York City and half of them from Chicago. Two of the top three metro areas in North America. And they left to beat the traffic. The traffic! I live in a college town of 20,000 that is hundreds of miles from the nearest freeway. And the big city folks were scared of the traffic here. That is so ridiculous that it makes me giggle. The worst traffic jam that we could ever have would be called a red light in NYC. Their rush hour lasts all day. We have rush minute. It's not even comparable. That's like Sigfried or Roy being afraid of a declawed kitten that is in shackles in a cage. Or like a motocross rider being afraid of his daughter's bike with it's training wheels on. It doesn't make sense. But to each their own I would guess.
I spent Sunday paling around with Guy. And it all started when he told me he'd help me pick up my chair. I bought a new chair (well, new to me anyway) for my living room, to replace the horribly broken couch. On the way to get the chair we stopped at David Nathaniel's house. We come walking in without knocking as usual, and he is sitting on the couch with his two daughters watching Karate Kid. And he is WAY too excited about the fact that Karate Kid 2 was coming on next. I mean, I am not knocking Karate Kid by any means, but it just had something comical about it. I think that the most impressive thing was that they weren't watching Noggin. I don't think I've been there when the kids are awake that Noggin hasn't been on the TV. Seriously, I am very much worried that David Nathaniel sings along with the kids songs. If I ever hear them on a CD in the car I will have to smack him. Backhanded, like he's some kind of bitch. And I mean that as a friend.
Anyway, as Guy and I are leaving we hear a tapping on the window. Mid-street, I turn, expecting to see one of the little girls doing something cute in the window. But instead I see David Nathaniel's pasty white ass pressed against the window. And he is wriggling it around and pointing at it. Gee Dave, thanks. If you hadn't been pointing at it like a retard I don't think I would have ever noticed it. Or been able to pick it out from the reams of other asses pressed against the window. All I know is that he should have thought twice about that because I have seen his daughters both press their tiny little faces up against that window. And from what I saw he needs to wipe better.
So after we recover from the shock and the glare of David Nathaniel's ass we go to get the chair. We find the place, and we go in the side door. And the side door area is in desperate need of some maintenance. The doorknob is no longer operational. The light is not working. The carpet is old and threadbare. It smells musty. So Guy and I bust in like we are from UPSET or something and start knocking on doors. Seriously, there should have been some panting, slightly overweight camera man following us while keeping the camera as unsteady as humanly possible with a boom mike always showing at the edge of the shot. And there probably should have been some shirtless man standing in the hall looking really guilty when we got up the stairs. That would have been good TV. At least by TruTV or Fox's standards. Or maybe that camera crew should have been waiting outside when we finally brougt the chair out. Because it was dusk, and we looked really shady. I am sure at least one concerned citizen called the cops. Sorry, I mean THE concerned citizen. I am sure he reported us. But we squealed out without worry.
And then we rolled all around town with my chair in the car. And I am actually surprised that some hooligans didn't roll in swipe my sweet chair, Guy's cigarettes, and put Guy's truck up on blocks. Because that chair is sweet. That kind of stuff happens in David Nathaniel's neighborhood. Or at least they do since we all started hanging out there. Especially since I stared bringing sweet recliners around and leaving them out in the street.
So all in all I was able to survive yet another graduation weekend no worse for the wear. I didn't have to off anyone, there were no riots, and Guy let me get a big ice cream cone while we were cruising around. So all was well. And now we can focus on summer. Once we get through Mother's Day. Oh and once all the snow melts. I forgot about that part.