Tonight was to be a night of celebrating: the water company has finally capped the gusher, we have water pressure; I got my badge and it's my birthday.
A good friend invited us over for the evening. We haven't seen him but once since we got back to Puerto Rico. This man is loads of fun, the kind of guy, who once he knows what makes you laugh gets you going till your jaws ache.
My girlfriend and Colonel Shit Face have been invited as well; her usually quick wit plays well with our host. This gathering promises to be fun.
Colonel Shit Face has a way with life stories told with the body language emphasis of the raised brow and the knowing gaze, tall tales from an amber Scotch haze will totally amaze. Until she is ready to hear the truth, denial will rule, so why not party?
How disappointed I was when she called to tell me that the colonel was crunching some numbers and they would be late! “Honey, can’t he do that tomorrow? It’s my birthday, let’s celebrate.” I cajoled her. “Oh, no, he’s running a program to come up with the winning lottery numbers!” she said with sincerity. He’s doing what??
He’s quite a guy, so I shut my mouth; who knows tomorrow I may need to borrow a million. By gosh, now I know what it means to smile a shit eating grin.
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