No Title Is Perfect Enough

20 Aug

     Tonight, was the dinner of all dinners. What was supposed to be just another family get-together in the city, turned out to be something entirely more that can only be described with my favorite “I don’t have anything else to say” saying– OY VEY. My grandmother ( my mom’s mom) decided to take me, my 2 aunts, and 2 cousins out to dinner in Union Square. My cousin’s friend from out-of-town joined us as well, because she was staying with my cousin, and “she couldn’t quite just leave her on the doorstep waiting”, as my grandmother so perfectly stated. When we arrived at the restaurant, my mother, grandma (whom we refer to as “g-baby”) and aunts decided to split a bottle of wine–the first sign the night would be interesting. We all ordered food, and went through about 5 baskets of bread. Typical. Then we started taking pictures, which made us look like the biggest tourists ever, except we all live near the city, and this was not a touristy spot. We took some fun pictures, some serious pictures, and just some plain pictures, and then got back into conversations with everyone. Every topic was covered at this dinner…seriously. Everything from underage drinking, to abortion, I kid you not. I felt so bad for our waiter, who was clearing the table right around the time the word “abortion” came out of my mouth, so I had to tell him we were all Democrats…I don’t know if that’s true or not, but everyone laughed–2 points for me. Then my mom had to get a bag that she had checked before we sat down, because there was a gift in there for my cousin. She needed a dollar to tip the lady at the check counter, so I pulled out a single from my pocket, which happened to be finely rolled. Don’t ask, I don’t do drugs, never have, never will, but sometimes when I get bored, I result to odd things, such as rolling my money up. My mom questioned me for about 10 minutes until I swore on all my dead relative’s graves that I don’t do drugs, not to mention I would NEVER to cocaine…everrrrrr. So after that conversation died, the safe-sex conversation sparked, which even made me need a cocktail–and I don’t drink. So I ordered a “Sicilian Wallbanger”, which as a bartender I knew had Galliano in it, but it sounded delicious, so I was like ok whatever. I ordered it, and it was fantastic…not to mention the color of it looked so beautiful, I didn’t want to drink it! But then the conversation shifted back to abortion and immediately I realized why I had ordered the drink in the first place. Then my cousin and her friend had some wine, and ordered glasses of sangria. My 15 year old cousin kept saying how good she was being that she hadn’t had a single sip of alcohol the entire night, and was the only one that way at the table. Her mother told her she was too young anyway, but she the pointed out that so were me and our other cousin. I then explained that we weren’t sitting there getting shit faced, so it was ok to casually have one drink at dinner with family. (I didn’t say this, but I should have). What I really did say though was that “you are 15, I am 19, the gap between 21 and me is far less than the gap between 21 and you” I am such a role model, I love it. Shortly after, the waiter brought out the dessert menus, which was perfect timing considering my grandmother claimed she had enough to drink to say what she wanted to say, and told us all we need to lose weight because of the “heart problems” that run in our family. She then put a bag of halloween-sized chocolate candy bars on the table–contradiction? Don’t ask. We all ordered dessert anyways, and I demanded a candle in mine because my birthday was 10 days ago, and I never got a cake. My mom then told me to look at a boy sitting at a table behind us, but not to make it look obvious. She wanted to know if the bandage on his nose meant he had a nose job–why the hell did she care? So I looked, and there was a band aid over his nose, but I couldn’t tell if it was a nose cast or not. So I just said I don’t know, and left it alone. My mom is so nosey, sheesh. 

     I can’t even go into great detail about the dinner, because it would just be way too long of a post, and I’d be frustrated trying to remember every last detail and moment of the evening that I’d never even be able to finish the post. So, basically, all you need to know is that people were staring at us, and we gave our waiter the extra candy. It was a great night with great food, great people, and great, awkward, yet hilarious dinner conversations. 

P.S My aunt is really set on the fact that I should be a stand-up comedian…so I told her if it happens I’d have a Sunday afternoon show so her husband could make it after Shabbat ended–I’m just the best, I know.

Personally, I think I’d be terrible, because people have told me I’m not funny, but I’m funnier on paper, and that I have a face for radio…great. I don’t know, sometimes I wonder if I’d be good at stand-up, or if I should just stick to writing. Hmm, what do you think? I sure as hell don’t know. Oh well, until next time.

you know you love me


A Ditk


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