While I was out with North Korea on Saturday night, I was offhandedly informed that the Super Bowl was scheduled for today. Not surprisingly, that was the first time this major bit of news had found its way under the rock where I live. When I woke up this morning (afternoon, actually), I had a voicemail from my parents inviting me to a party in their neighborhood. Despite my supreme disinterest in football (that’s the game with the big men heaving the little pointy ball, right?), I accepted the invite.
Let me digress for a moment and introduce you to the world of my parents’ neighbors. Picture Desperate Housewives meets Friends, with a side of Sideways. There are about six couples in the little ‘group’, and they all love drinking, eating, drinking, gossiping, drinking, socializing constantly, and drinking. Not to say that they imbibe to excess – just that they know how to have a good time. That’s a bit of an understatement. These people could make a person have a fucking blast at their own funeral. My wedding was 1000% more outrageously fun due to their very presence, and my inlaws will forever be referring to the ‘woman who was dancing on the floor with her dress pulled up to her waist.’
So naturally, every time I receive an invite to a neighborhood function, I immediately cancel all other plans (except ones with you, of course) because I know without a doubt that I will have a splendid evening of fabulous food, excellent wine, and delightful company. For example, my last dinner party involved a three course seafood extravaganza, a bottle of liqueur from Thailand with a dead snake coiled in it, and a shouting sing-along of Jingle Bell Rock, You’re So Vain, and I Will Survive. I figured tonight would be no exception, hence my immediate acceptance of the offer.
Although the team I decided to cheer for lost (damn those Seattle Steelers!), the evening did not disappoint. In one memorable moment, the women began cheering and shrieking and clapping at Mick Jagger’s wild moves (“He looks fantastic! He’s in his sixties!“) during the Rolling Stones’ halftime show. When they began dancing, I felt compelled to take a picture:
