3. In the same vein as number 2 (hee. I said number 2), I'm also not a normal future mother-in-law (nor is my future daughter-in-law Montana normal; she's exceptional). (Oh, fuck me. Two parentheticals in one sentence. Who taught me to write?)Friday night my son Drake and his fiance Montana were in town, so we decided to check out a blues bar that had just opened up downtown. The bar was almost empty when we arrived, but the guy playing slide guitar was doing his job, while his drunk bass player phoned it in beside him. The lights were way too bright, and the bartender couldn't make me a Manhattan because they didn't have any bitters.
I ordered a glass of wine instead, wishing not for the first time that I liked beer, but I don't so wine it was. The server went to the back, then returned and said they only had red. I said I could live with that. She went to the back again, and when she came back she asked if I minded it chilled. I even agreed to that, although a gin and tonic was sounding better and better. She brought me the chilled red wine, and it was worth the $3 I paid for it.
(For those readers who are local to me, I'll just say the place was all East Side. Through and through.)
A curvy woman with a giant tattoo of the sun on her upper back -- I'll call her Lucy -- in shorts and a low-cut t-shirt came wiggling up and pulled me out into the space in front of the musicians to dance. She seemed to be a regular, but maybe she was just that gregarious. I felt a little awkward, but what the fuck. I'll dance with almost anybody. Eventually she got Drake and Montana up too, and tried to get the few other patrons up and dancing, but with limited success. It wasn't for lack of energy and ambition though. She was working the room like a down-and-out stand-up comedian.
Lucy was one of those women who probably seems like she's tipsy even when she hasn't been drinking, but that night she'd started early, and it was after midnight. She asked about our relationships, expressed surprise that Drake was my son because he looks so old and I look so young, and wondered what we were doing later. Montana told her we were going to the dance club after we left there.
She said to me, "You're going out dancing with your son and his girl?" I nodded, and she turned to Montana and said in her loud voice, "I tell you what! You'd better appreciate that. You don't see that too often, a mom who does that. You'd better appreciate her." She winked at me.
Montana just smiled and nodded. She appreciates me, and I appreciate her. We're good.
Then Lucy leaned in like she wanted to tell us a secret and said, "You two ought to go down there on 5th Street to that sex shop. You should do that together tonight." And then she laughed and laughed.
I sat down, choked down a swallow of chilled red wine and said to Montana, "We'd go to a sex shop together, wouldn't we?"
She said, "Sure, why wouldn't we?"
"I don't know," I said. "Lucy thought she was stirring up trouble by suggesting it."
Montana just smiled, and so did I. Later when I thought of it I wondered how Lucy would have reacted if I'd told her this story about how Montana got me up on the pole at the same club we were going to that night.
I decided that would probably be too much for her. Or worse, she'd want to go with us and get up on the pole herself. I've had to learn the hard way not to get too friendly with the natives, and this seemed like a good time to practice.
So that's my third weird thing. I would go to a sex store with my son's fiance, and she would go with me. And her mom would probably go with us too. And so would my daughter Elvira. Hell, we'd all go together, so maybe I'm not as weird as I thought. I mean that's four of us. Seems like a quorum to me.
I don't know if I'd actually be able to buy anything if I went to the sex store with them though. I do have boundaries.
Confession time is over for me, at least for the next 3 days. What are 3 weird things about you? Would you go to a sex shop with me?