Fire & Ice

An hour after I left the crawfish boil, Carlos calls me at home.

"Hey! The party's rolled over to South Park, where are you!"

"I'm at home."

"Well come meet us here!"

"Carlos! Shorty's here!" I exclaimed. I don't know how he forgets that I do have responsibilities.

"Oh," he says, letting on that he genuinely forgot about my almost 11 year old son, "well, leave him there!"

"Carlos! I am not leaving my son at home to go to a bar!"

"Why not?!" he asks (I'm thinking, "Really?!") "You've left him at home before."

I realize I'm going to have to explain it to him (because he is retarded).

"Carlos, a 20 minute trip to the airport during the day is one thing, but I am not leaving my child at home at 11 PM on a Friday night to go to a bar! But you are welcome to come drink a Heineken with me in my backyard."

"Well, I just called B. and told him to come back to the bar. He's on his way. I'll come over when he gets there."

"Whatever," I say, thinking he's not going to ditch his best buddy to come sit in my backyard.

20 minutes later Carlos shows up. [REALLY?!]

So we end up sitting in my backyard drinking Heine's & talking about work & basketball when he blurts out, "You are so beautiful! I don't want you to go to [insert city in, Iowa here]!"

I'm thinking, "What would I stay here for?! So you can not claim me, ignore me, and not invite me to functions?!", but that was on the inside.

"What are you going to do when I'm gone?" I ask, curious to his response.

"I don't know. I don't know!" he replies to me but more to himself and quite befuddled. "I guess I'll come visit."

I had to come up with another fiery hoop for him to jump through so I said, "You better show up with a ring on the first visit."

"What kind of ring do you want?" he asks.

"One carat emerald cut diamond set in platinum with two half carat baguettes," I off-handedly replied (not that I've ever thought about it ;-).

"How many baguettes?" he asks.

"One on each side!" I say.

"You better pick it out," he says to me.

"I'll email a picture of it to you and you can go find it," I say. "Actually, you better have it before I leave."

So I've thought about it and it strikes me as something out of an old Pat Benatar song. Maybe I should just send him this blog address so he can see himself the way I see him before he goes on that treasure hunt for ice.