I went to the lake this weekend in the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains with my lovely and adoring parents who had been on vacation at their cabin on the lake for about a week. I had an extra day off on Friday since we worked on Memorial Day so I was going to float and read and get my drink on with my Mom and Stepdad. We had a wonderful trek to Young Harris to this phenomenal vineyard, beautiful view, tasty wine, just a delight- and that is when they sprung it on me. Their recently divorced friend (divorced after 25 years) had invited himself (and a date) up for the weekend. I was a tad tipsy and as my mother’s daughter was going to make the best of it. But dudes, the cabin is cozy and accommodates the fam quite nicely, but who is this woman? Is she cool? Is she fun? Not to mention that I felt that “our” time was being infringed upon- I don’t get to spend so much time with the parentals to have them all to myself, you know? But, I’ve known the man since I was a child (let us just call him “Dick” for the sake of the story) and Dick was a tad wounded. Wounded, lonely, newly-divorced man. A nice man that probably hasn’t had the opportunity to get a word in edgewise for going on 25 years, so we felt like Dick needed some friends and support. So enters Dick and date “Jane” (and that is only because even after two days, I still can’t remember her name.) So, there we are in this tiny cabin.
Warning: Content Below not recommended for anyone under the age of 18.
We took a boat ride, tossed back some beverages and I went to the loft (a big, high up, open to the living room, bedroom-ish sort of space) to read and sleep in a cozy little twin bed. Now since Jane and Dick had not yet, you know, I get another bomb dropped on me after the boat ride that she is sleeping in the other twin bed in the loft. Ok, so now I’m a tad more put out, but still relaxed and groovy, so I went with it.
And apparently so did they.
How do I say this delicately… I had to listen to Dick and Jane ride the hobby horse all night long - if you get what I am implying and I think that you do. I now know details about Dick that I have no need to. Such his 4 year drought in the boom-sha-laka-laka-boom department and how very “grateful” he was to Jane after his first climax. Oh yeah, I said climax. I also said FIRST because I had to listen to him whisper about how long the doctor had said “it” would last as he shook a little container of what I am going to assume were not tic-tacs.
I was trapped. I could hear positively every hushed intimate whisper- although he might have been drunk guy whispering at a more audible level- but what could I do? I pulled the covers over my head, I coughed and I texted my mom for a full hour things like “Eeeeeew. make them stop. I just heard zipper.” Anything I could to get her to walk in on them and oh-please-dear-god put an end to the debauchery. I called her cell phone in the kitchen with its little whimpy ring- nothing would deter these two from getting it on.
So, I was peeved. Jane snuck upstairs and slept in the bed- I don’t know why they bothered with the pretense but they did- and I mercifully fell asleep for a few fitful hours. I got up and with some slightly dirty sign language convinced my mom that we needed to talk NOW, so we took a walk around 6:30 AM so I could fill her in about the teenagers humping on her living room floor all night long. We got my stepdad to talk to him- because a Saturday night sequel was TOTALLY out of the question, my fragile little ears are now warped beyond repair. To my dismay- they stayed Saturday too. (And I really wanted to leave, but my mother threatened me with tears so I decided to stay.) So I begged Jeff to come up on Saturday night and comfort and protect me- which he did - and for that I am SO grateful.
Oh- the best part- right after putting on my new Brandi Carlile CD on sometime Saturday, Dick asks if he can change the music. Mom was good enough to say, um, no, we just put this on. Later we found out why it was so important (he really pulled out all the stops for this fine lady) he wanted to play some of his music. So we listened to Dick crooning to bad karaoke tracks like “Nights in White Satin” and Elvis’ version of “Dixie” for HOURS. There were TWO freakin’ CDs of this crap and, at this point, if not for the steady stream of alcohol my mother provided me, I was REALLY ready to take a sharp implement to my poor, poor eardrums. Lucky for me I remained pretty nearly pickled all day long so it stayed funny- I also tried not to make eye contact and wore my sunglasses at all times for fear that my secret face might reveal that I was witness to their night of lovin’.
Ew. So. Gross. (I told you- I couldn’t make this up if I tried.)
What did we learn from this lesson, may I ask? Well, when someone invites themselves somewhere they shouldn’t , you should ALWAYS say one of the following:
a. “No.”
b. “We already have plans and no I will not elaborate”
c. “Are you going to scrump loudly on the floor all night and do I require earplugs?”
Can I get a “do over” of my weekend? Just rehashing it makes me want a drink.
