the visitor

I am anxiously awaiting the arrival of Salty D's college roommate, E.

D & E were so close that their (guy) friends called them "Cock & Balls."  Guess which one my husband was.

Anyway, the last time I saw E. was just before he entered a 12-step rehab program. He's been sober for 18 years and I've never talked to him sober.   

He's stopping by on his way to New Jersey and I just made deviled eggs and muffalata and roast beef & cheddar sandwiches and iced tea and real lemonade, because I have this fantasy of being the perfect hostess from 1959.

So the legendary story of how we all met is thus. Or this.  I was with my roommate Ann in a bar celebrating the final finals of our final year of college, and we were, well, smashed. 

Ann talked to E. first and was spitting vodka at him through a straw pretending to bless him with holy water.  Girls, that's a great pick-up strategy.  Got him all pissed off but he was so hammered I guess it didn't matter. I was dancing on a barstool to Guns-n-Roses and the bartender demanded I cease, so I jumped off the stool and landed right next to D. and that's how we met.  Touching, isn't it?

Ann & E. and D. & Me then spent the next three months together on a summer-long double date enhanced by lots of chemicals, menial jobs, road trips, and dining at all-you-can-eat happy hours all over town.  Whatever we could do to keep the real world at bay.

I think I know why D. and E. stopped talking - because E. had to go to rehab and D. continued to party. I have no idea why Ann and I stopped talking.  That's the beauty of time.  She called me a few years ago to apologize, and even though I didn't remember what-for, I accepted and apologized right back for whatever hand I had in whatever rift there was.  But we haven't talked since the apology.

Apparently, E. and Ann had a kid together but decided not to marry, and then E. decided to marry Ann's best friend and have more kids with the friend.  Ooooh. That's where it gets dicey.

So I don't know today how much I can talk about Ann.  My guess is, not so much.  And we certainly can't talk about the college years' shenanigans, because most of it we don't remember anyway.

Meanwhile, the half of the "Cock & Balls" that I live with is completely calm and happy about the visit.  I've been cleaning and fussing about, and he's totally laid back.

p.s. OK, the visitor is here.  He's the same funny guy as I remember, just without running into walls or falling down drunk or tripping his face off.  This is good.  I left the boys alone to bond over stogies and I finished off the deviled eggs. 

p.p.s. We were part of Step 9, he said.