The Day Before the Road Trip

I woke, a little disoriented, like you do when you wake somewhere unfamiliar. I looked over and Eric Lover was out of bed already. A look at the clock told me it was nine in the am and since I am about as friendly as a porcupine with rash in the morning, I decided to go down and share my friendly disposition with my fellow TBers and have a cup of wake the hell up.

I stumbled into the loo and came out a few minutes later and shlepped down the hallway and down the grand stair case, nearly tripping on the effing cat. It hissed at me and I cursed it roundly and it spat at me and slapped my ankle with his paw. "Son of a Mother Fudge!!!" I yelled and side stepped it as I finished my trip down the stairs. I walked into the kitchen and GS and the Missus were making pancakes and sausage and Eric Lover was making mimosas, the breakfast drink of the fashionable and alcoholic everywhere. But I needed my coffee, so I went and poured me a hot cup of Joseph (this early in the morning, you have to treat coffee with respect) and grabbed my crumpled pack of cigarettes and meandered onto the porch.

Westexan and Liz and Mel were sitting on the porch, drinking their coffee.

"Morning," they said brightly. See, I am of the opinion that people who are cheerful of the morning should be staked in the heart, but that is just me. I mumbled something fairly incoherent and sat down on the steps and lit a cigarette and supped my coffee. After smoking a ciggy and drinking about half a cup of coffee, I felt a little more human and joined my fellow junkies.
"Awake Aslinn?" asked Liz.
"Yep," I said. "How did you chickens sleep?"
"That damned cat decided to lay under my bed and meow all night long!!!" said Westexan. "I'm getting to hate that noodle butted thing more and more."
"The little shiatsu tried to trip me going down the stairs, hissed at me and everything," I complained.
"Well, he kept pounding on my door last night, wanting in," said Liz.
"He better watch out, he'll end up on the menu," I said. "Black Cat Pate, it would go down good with a cranberry martini." Everyone laughed at me at that and about that time, we gave up on fantasizing about the messy demise of the professional mouser to follow the breakfast bell coming from the ducet tones of Mrs. GS screaming 'Eat or go hungry!!!'

After breakfast and the dishes done, we worked on the lights that GS had made. I swear there is just a hint of interior designer in God Speed because the lights he made for us were just divine. He was still keeping the visual effects under wraps and refused to tell us anything about them except they are really cool and we would love them on the night of the fete.

None of spoke of the trip we were going to take to Shreveport. Before I went to bed last night, I checked my email. My counselor wrote me,

Sweetheart, please give me your word that you and your friends will not come to Shreveport.

I didn't write back.