Weekend Arrival Festivities

Just when I thought First Friday celebrations had established a routine, granted, a very enjoyable routine, but routine just the same, they are taken to another level. I can lay the blame for this enjoyable development at the feet of my favorite Panamanian. Since we live in Worcester now, I’ve taken to swinging by the house to pick her up before heading to Brew City. She was in high fettle when I picked her up because she had serious issues with the new dishwasher the landlord had delivered to the house. The old one broke down last week and he immediately took steps to replace it, which I thought was admirable. Apparently this new one doesn’t meet her high expectations, even after I pointed out it was the exact same model as the one it replaced while costing us nothing. Fortunately Brew City offered its services in the way of mollifying her sense of outrage.

The "Inadequate" Washer 

The normal crew assembled for First Friday as well as some additions. We were saying goodbye to the funniest employee we have who is retiring. He was up to his usual form and told a joke that I cannot repeat even with my heartfelt lack of political correctness. I’ll only say it involved an elderly Jewish lady building a statue to honor Hitler and had us all rolling on the floor. While we were ushering in the weekend in thoroughly appropriate manner the skies opened up and an impressive deluge descended outside.

The First Friday Crew - My Wife on the Right

Shrewsbury Street became a veritable river and we canvassed the bar to see if the owner of the Mercedes parked right outside with its windows open was there. He wasn’t and the consensus was that we would have felt worse if it had been a Corolla. Twenty minutes into the storm a ponytailed metrosexual came charging up the sidewalk to his car. He almost caused two separate accidents pulling into traffic. He was probably having trouble steering and treading water at the same time.

Shrewsbury Street Under Water

The crowd departed but the wife and I decided to stay and sample Brew City pizza for the first time. I was singularly impressed, my wife less so, but I am more easily swayed on the subject of pizza if it is surrounded by beer taps and multiple screens showing sports programming. I’m easy that way. Full of pizza, beer, 1 frozen mudslide, and attitude we made the five minute ride home (YES!!) and found that just a mile from Brew City the streets were completely dry as no rain had fallen. Unfortunately the rain did bless our hilltop and a very shaken Wonder Pooch had addressed it with his usual voracious drooling.

A long telephone call with the Cali-Daughter ensued where plans for her baby shower were discussed/negotiated in full. For some unknown reason I was left completely out of the negotiations (pleased at this development would be an understatement). The ensuing plan was to watch a movie but my wife insisted we needed to discuss drapes (don’t ask – I’m still not sure I understand why).

Updated Photo of Cali-Daughter and the First Blog Reader

The next door Mafioso’s arrival from work rescued me from trying to keep my head in the drape discussion game. We were shortly on station around their kitchen island with a bottle of wine for the ladies and my signature Coors Lites. This was, as pointed out on numerous occasions, just about the perfect way to end a day, sitting around a table with good friends. This makes two Fridays in a row I’ve accomplished that precious task – a streak worth keeping active. By the end of the night the two Panamanian ladies had polished off the entire bottle of wine which is something my wife is not accustomed to. The thirty second commute back to our house was fraught with peril and a serious amount of entertainment. A good day; now to go out in search of my Wingman!