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Oh Hell No    
 
First the back story:   About a year ago we went to dinner with a couple The Husband knew through work channels.  The Men put their heads together thinking that The Wives (yours truly, included) would be fast friends and set up a dinner date.   So we meet for dinner.  I could tell in the first 5 seconds it was going to be a bust.  Her Husband was charming, a very nice man.  The Bitch, on the other hand.   Well.   First words out of her mouth were:  

"Oh, wow.  You have a lot of hair.  And it's so curly.  Do you really like all that curl?"  
 
 "Yes I do, actually.  It's God-Given and I appreciate it."
 
"Hm, Yeah.  I guess it's good curly hair is back in."
 
"Yes, I wish I could say the same for good manners."

 
She totally missed that reference but Her Husband and The Husband caught it.  Of course, The Husband was also experiencing the excruciating pain of my heel digging into his foot under the table.   The entire night was filled with comments like; "

"Well those earrings are interesting - the seem a bit on the bulky side." "The color of your shirt - they consider that orange, right?" " Well that color is so bad on people.  But you seem to pull it of...ok."  "Oh, yeah.  I tried catering but it was so boring.  So I decided to take up home  interior, instead.  It's a fabulous thing.  I also do wedding planning and dabble in candle-making."
 
 
I spent the entire meal smiling, digging my shoe in The Husband's foot and drinking enough red wine to make the median income of the entire Napa Valley raise 3 points.   When the check came, The Husband and Her Husband were quick to grab - but Her Husband won.  Damn him.  I know he was paying to make up for his pond bottom-sucking wife.   But, having Her Husband pick up the check meant that at some point down the road we had to reciprocate. 
 
 
And I hate that.    
 
But I did it.  
 
About 6 months later.      
 
I decided to call them on a Thursday to see if they could come for dinner on a Saturday, thinking that was in no way enough time and they would already have plans.  And why I thought that, I have no idea.  The Husband is darling but The Bitch, I am certain, is the reason they did not have plans - because they have no friends.  
 
 
So over they came.  
 
 
I baked a wheel of Brie that I had smothered in pesto and extra garlic and a splash of olive oil and served it with fresh ciabatta bread.   Dinner was mixed green salad, prime rib (medium rare), garlic mashed potatoes, grilled asparagus and sauteed mushrooms.  Dessert was creme puffs.   
 
All favorites of Her Husband.  
 
He raved.   
 
The Bitch sulked.   
 
The Husband wiped the beads of sweat that kept appearing on his forehead.      
 
The night was cut short when she suddenly got a headache and informed Her Husband she would be waiting for him in the car.  The poor man didn't even have time to finish his creme puff.  He did, however, apologize for her behavior.  I assured him it was all ok.  And I resisted the temptation to give him the number of My Friend The Divorce Attorney.  
 
I made it pretty clear to The Husband that if I ever saw The Bitch again in my lifetime, it would be too soon.  He agreed - not because I made him.  (Really, he can think for himself) but because The Bitch drove him crazy.   Thankfully we have not seen them on the better side of 8 months.  
 
So cut to about an hour ago when I get a panicked phone call from The Husband. 
"Uh, Baby.  I just walked in the door and we had a message on the machine.  Um, The Bitch said she and Her Husband are coming in to town tonight and they are going to stop by to say hello.  She says it's been forever since they saw us and she is dying to catch up."
 
Oh, Hell no.

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Posted by Foodwhore at July 16, 2004 03:58 PM