A Day in the Life

Keeping Up Appearances

BY LAWRENCE VON EBELER

At this stage in my old age, sometimes, it's an effort to keep up appearances.

My friends were so nice, devoted, kind and surprised at my frailty. They arrived from their three-hour trip to my house almost an hour earlier than planned. I had just laid down for a sneaky half hour and snuggled into the unmade bed (that I always make first thing in the morning, but not on this crazy day) and I was falling asleep when my dog, Roscoe, started barking. Clearly, someone was at the door.

I stumbled to the door in my sweats with holes in them and crumpled shirt. To my surprise and horror, it was Marta and Bill: My guests had arrived early for our Valentine's dinner. One could be pleasantly surprised, but not me. I was in such disarray that I didn't even have the candles lit or the music playing for their “entrance experience.”

The hors d' oeuvres were still in the refrigerator so no shrimp cocktails, no pan-fired asparagus and no cheese trays were out waiting. As for me? I was a total wreck!

It was challenging to act excited to see them. Very challenging.

Marta, the ever-present, disgruntled diplomat, said, “Let's just sit down and talk since our reservations are not for another hour and a half.” So, I got out the hors d'oeuvres and asked Bill to get a television tray. He did that - except the tray would not open up! We got another tray and Bill set the hors d' oeuvres on it (without removing the Saran wrap). Marta poured the wine (they brought in the wrong stems), and we conversed.

After noshing and reading our Valentine's cards to each other, and some strained chatting for a half hour, Marta and I departed to change our clothes. Bill wasn't changing to anything different from his short jacket, and the lucky devil cleaned up things and put away hors d' oeuvres in the refrigeratorjust as a guest should be doing. (He drove to get here for three hours and then I put him to work!)

So, after 45 minutes of changing clothes (I skipped the shower that I had planned), Marta came out in a resplendent cocktail dress (sleek black, sultry and bejeweled) and off we went in Bill's new Lincoln for the chic Blackburn Hotel in St. Joe and their

“Bistro Room” restaurant.

On the way, though, I started having stomach signals of distress and, coupled with my being struck with leg problems, didn't feel great, Poor Bill had to help me to and from the car and the restroom. We stumbled up the elegant steps to the dining room, and I told the hostess that I needed the restroom ASAP. “We will seat you in a few minutes,” she said. Having had difficulty making the reservation with her misunderstanding me with the simple spelling of my name three times, I snapped, “I said I wanted the restroom, not my table!” So, I went to the very nice restroom and took a half hour. (This was not a star struck evening so far!) Bill stood patiently waiting and checking on me the whole time.

We joined the table with Marta, and they just sat there without ordering drinks or appetizers!

So, we ended up ordering simple appetizers. Marta had her usual difficulty in ordering and embarrassingly started horse-trading with Bill for half of his appetizer and she would give him part of hers (in this firstclass restaurant). I was a little embarrassed. So, I ordered a vodka martini and thought they might order wine or a drink. Wrong! My friends did not order a drink either, with Marta instead raving about how much she loved water. I thought: “Why are we here?” They both ordered appetizers instead of dinners that they exchanged with each other. I ordered an appetizer, too, as I had lost any hint of an appetite.

My legs had become progressively worse and poor Bill had to help me down the steps from the dining room and then into the car and my house when we got back home. Poor Bill got strapped with all kinds of duties throughout the evening, didn't he? Fortunately, he is a man of great patience. Otherwise, he would not be in association with Marta and the likes of me.

I had to wonder what was said on their way to their hotel. A smooth evening it was not.

Sometimes, it’s hard for us old geezers to entertain.