I had a nice little Saturday evening planned for about week. Jada was to come by and we would watch True Blood on my laptop and roast marshmallows for s’mores.
Because Amazon was the cheapest, I called my mom when she was home on lunch on Monday and had her buy season one from my account. Our website usage is tracked at work, and I wanted to get it by Saturday.
It didn’t ship until Wednesday and as I write this, it still hasn’t come. Not that that’s much of a surprise with it being Labor Day and all the mail not running today (I should get it tomorrow though).
Then, Saturday afternoon around 3 p.m. as I sat reading book 8 of the Sookie Stackhouse novels (The basis for True Blood), it started to rain. Rain and fire don’t really mix. If it kept up raining the s’mores would be a mere dream.
There was one thought that I did have though. As long as it didn’t rain hard, we could sit on the back porch and still roast because we had a roof over part of the patio. So I moved the fire bowl and covered the wood.
Come 7:30, after getting out burgers ate and halfway through one of the episodes I began to get stuff ready for roasting (when Eric wasn’t in a scene, of course). Once the episode was over, we moved outside and realized that we didn‘t have any marshmallows, both assuming the other had brought them.
Marshmallows are kind of vital for s’mores.
We left for the store and nearly as soon as I got into Jada’s car, my cell rang. I glanced at the display and saw it was my sister.
My sister is seven time zones away. It was nearly 8 p.m. in the States, it was 3 a.m. Sunday in Denmark. I figured she was drunk and was a little worried. Hans had taken her to a party. His ex was going to be there; it was the first time Andrea met her.
I answered and found incoherent babble amongst the tears, but did make out that she wanted me to purchase her a plane ticket home ASAP. Well, plane tickets from Denmark to Indiana aren’t cheap at any time, and I was sure that at the last minute, they would be even more expensive. Despite my college degree, I don’t make enough money to loan anyone $1,000+ without knowing I’ll get the money back upon arrival home.
This may sound a little callous, but you have to know my sister. Had she absolutely without a doubt needed a plane ticket home, I would’ve scrounged together the funds somehow. But I was not going to get her plane ride home when she’d drank too much and had a fight with her fiancé. That was not an emergency; that did not require me doing my sisterly duty and providing her safe passage home.
Back to the phone call – I’m trying to piece together what has her upset. I make out the words that she hates it in Denmark, she wants to come home and then I hear her say, “Go away. Go away. I don’t speak Danish. No speak-o Danish.”
Honest to god she said “No speak-o Danish.”
I hung up and called my mom. I did manage to find out that she had tried calling my mom with no success. Knowing my mom keeps her cell phone in her purse, I called her boyfriend’s cell. He answered and I talked with my mom.
Jada and I got the marshmallows and got home. We were roasting and having a high time. Eric was looking uber-hot and sexy on TV. It should be criminal for a man to look that good.
Andrea calls again.
She’s still crying.
I ask her if she’s talked to mom, she says yes and that Hans is talking to mom now. She just wants to talk to me. I don’t mind, but it’s hard to talk to someone who is crying. I try to calm her down. I finally get out what sat her off. The Danish people laughed at her. The Danish people laughed at her because…
Wait for it…
Wait for it…
Wait…a bit more…
A stripper stole her jacket.
This is not a joke; she really did say that a stripper stole her jacket.
I finally get off the phone with her and Jada asks what this is about a stripper stealing stuff. I tell her. We really don’t know what to make of this piece of information. Having your jacket stolen by a stripper would be enough to set me off, but how in the hell did the stripper manage to abscond with my sister’s jacket.
My mother gets home and elaborates.
Everything was fine and they were laughing and having fun on the walk home. Andrea wanted Hans to carry her to the hotel. The hotel was a mile away and while my sister barely registers triple digits on the scale, she isn’t exactly a rag doll. Hans told her she could walk. This didn’t sit well with Andrea and she got pissed. She tried running away from Hans.
When she finally got a hold of my mom, she told her Hans left her. Then she told my mom that Hans was on the other side of the street. Hans also tried to assault her. This was because he was grabbing her so she wouldn’t run off (I presume this would be across the street). Her jacket, well no one really knows what happened to it. She noticed it was missing when they were outside and she was cold, thus, she formed the hypothesis, that a stripper stole the missing jacket.
Things settled down eventually.
Anyway, I was talking to her this morning and asked about the stripper. Seriously, that is just a classic phrase – the stripper stole (insert missing object)! That is when I found out (she as well) that the strip club wasn’t a strip club.
“We went to a strip club, but no one was stripping,” she told me. And then she told me to hold on. “Oh, it wasn’t a stripper it was a hooker…a hooker club. It really did have a red light too”
My sister ended up in a Danish Brothel. A Danish Hooker might’ve stolen her jacket….or shawl thingy (Hans said it wasn’t really a jacket, just a little thing she draped over her shoulders).
She then goes on to tell me about the walk back. Apparently, while they were fighting, some woman comes up to Hans and says…
“It’s okay, I’m a social worker.”
Ok. Stop here for a minute. “I’m a social worker?” Who says that like they’re some kind of damn super hero? Was she wearing a cape (No, she wasn’t…damn)? And now the million-dollar question…what was a social worker doing out at three in the morning handing out business cards like she was at a networking luncheon (In her defense, I do not know if a business card was handed out, but still, WTF).
All I can say is…wow…Saturday evening…despite the interrupted plans…proved to be one for the record books. Stripper/hookers, marshmallows, sexy-ass Eric Northman, and www.peopleofwalmart.com…does it get any better than that?
Oh, by the way, if you haven’t been to that website…you have to…there are several people in capes…I wonder if one of them was the Danish social worker.
And now if you excuse me…I have another fictional man to dream about!
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