Wednesday, February 9, 2011

A Memory Story: trying to buy a house.

A short narrative from special guest blogger Dan Griffin:

On most Wednesdays Julie and I come from volleyball and Justin from class to convene for dinner at the Coles' house. It is becoming somewhat of a tradition.  "Wednesday Dinner".

So there I am with Justin in the kitchen talking to Julie's mom, Cristy. Enters Julie, carrying a plastic bat, with a not-joking look on her face.  She proceeds through the kitchen to the back door. 

"I'm just going to blow off some steam". 

 Cristy turns to me and mouths the words "what happened? something at practice or on the way here?" 

 Back door shuts. I clarify, "No, this is about the bank. She's mad at the bank, and the situation with the house." 

She turns the corner and we can't see her anymore through the window. 

Then we hear the banging. 

 Me, Justin and my future mother-in-law. It's really quite comical, and surreal, as my fiancee takes the opportunity to let it all out on the back yard. We are talking about it and laughing and then I say sh sh sh because the banging stops and I think Julie is coming back inside. 

 Nope, more banging, some frustrated grunting. 

 Justin, intrigued, "does she do this often?" Cristy, contemplatively "no this is the first time she's ever done this." I stand up for her "She's got a lot of stress in her life right now. She's getting married. She's got two jobs. Lives in her parents basement..." 

Then Julie whirls back into the house, hair all over face... kind of embarrassed. Smiles. Trying to play it off like she DIDN'T just take a whiffleball bat to the entire back yard. She silently walks back through the kitchen and puts the bat away in the garage, returns to the kitchen where we all stand, watching, silently, waiting... No one talks about it. The only concrete evidence is the tuft of hair hanging down in front of her face.
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