The exercise:
Having Thanksgiving dinner tonight, so food is on the brain. Today's starter, therefore, shall be: guess who's coming to dinner.
Mine:
"Is it Thomas Edison?"
"No."
"Is it Al Gore?"
"No."
The guessing had been going on for twenty minutes by that point, but I took some encouragement from the fact that Maurice had finally moved on to people who were still alive.
4 comments:
I dialed my roommate, same as usual. He picked up on the second ring, as he normally did. "Hey, Joey? I'm on my way home, y'want me t'pick something up on the way home?"
There was a slight hitch in his response. "Actually Tom, I made something up tonight. Just come on back, I invited a... a few friends over..."
"Alright then... see y'in a bit, then." My first reaction was confusion, naturally. Joey never made dinner, the poor guy could barely boil water. And who could he have invited over? The fact that he hesitated in his word choice summoned a bit of suspicion. Why would he tell me about guests that he wouldn't want me to know about? Then a cold, sinking feeling began to creep into my stomach. Surely... surely he didn't find anything...?
I went into our apartment building around the back, as I usually did. I couldn't help notice two or three jet black Lincolns in the corner of the parking lot. This raised my suspicion further; either some of our buddies were renting new cars, or my suspicions were close to being confirmed. I desperately hoped it was the former, but I didn't get my hopes up too high. None of our friends had enough cash to afford that kind of car and keep it looking that nice.
There was quite a bit of hushed murmuring behind the door as I fumbled for my keys. But I soon realized my search had been in vain: the door was unlocked. Now I knew something was up, Joey never left the door unlocked, even if he and I were both home. Nervously I nudged the door open, and the mutterings ceased immediately.
"Hey Joey," I called as nonchalantly as I could manage.
"Hi Tom, c'mon in."
I entered cautiously, making particular note that the entire apartment was that it was almost entirely dark, save for some dim lighting in the dining room, and one uncomfortably lit spot at the table. A couple dark figures stood around the table, which had been set for a simple dinner for six. My roommate stood in the dining room doorway, trying very hard to disappear. He tried to shrug casually.
"Look who came t-t'dinner," he stammered, swallowing a forcedly easy-going laugh and gesturing with his head to the dining room. "I tried to argue, but they insisted on waiting for you."
"Yes, otherwise our little visit would've been completely in vain," one of the shadows in the dining room added easily. "Please, Thomas, have a seat," he continued, gesturing to the seat in the blinding light. Not that I expected any different.
I approached slowly, pausing a moment to have a word with Joey. "What did you find Joey," I hissed.
Of course Joey got all flustered. "I'm-I'm sorry, but your flash drive was in your computer, and I noticed you'd been acting funny lately, so I had to take a look, and, and, oh Tom I'm sorry..."
I sighed, gave him my we'll talk later look, and took my seat. It's funny how nervous bright lights can make a fella.
"Now, Thomas. I was talking to Joey a bit before you arrived. Sound like a very interesting person." The shadowy figure paused for dramatic effect, which worked very well. "He tells me you're quite the computer whiz," he continued nonchalantly. "Tell me, how much do you know about poking around classified files?"
I growled in self-disgust. Of all the days I had to leave my flash drive at home and in my computer, of all the days Joey had to go be nosy, of all the times he had to blow my cover, it had to be this one.
I was so close to my goal, too. But with the way things were going, I might as well have put my plans in a Tupperware bowl and forgotten about them in the back of the fridge.
- - - - -
Okay, so maybe that last bit didn't make the most sense. But that's not important, right? I did what I could with the prompt... a bit odd, my result was, but hey! You gave inspiration, I ran with it.
And, I did not know you guys up north of the Border celebrate Thanksgiving in mid-October until just yesterday. It's amazing what one can learn, isn't it?
Thanks for the encouragement!! It feels good!
Guess Who's coming to dinner...
She had just put the dressing in the ove when the phone rang.
"Hi Mom. We'll be there in about an hour, I can't wait to see the family. This is going to be great."
"I am glad you landed safe. Do you need Dad to pick you up, and your sisters are dying to see you. Wait, did you say we? You have someone with you?"
"Sorry mom, this is a bad connection, we'll talk when I get there. Love ya, bye."
She slowly hung up the phone and wondered at what her daughter had not said in that conversation. Someone was with her, but who, and why wouldn't she say who. She knew that her girlfriends were always welcome, they always had been. All the years that the girls had been growing up, they always hung out here, they were always welcome and even on holidays and extra girl or two could be found at the house. So why didn't she say who was with her.
Her husband walked in the room.
"Was that the phone I heard?"
"Yes, Lori landed safely and is on her way. Gurss who is coming to dinner?"
Wow, so much to read here, and I'm already short of time! Sorry guys, this is going to be a poor showing from me today.
Guess who's coming to dinner
She sat opposite me, noticeably thinner,
and said, "Guess who's coming to dinner!"
I counted her ribs, stark as a toast-rack.
"Famine?" I guessed and she looked tak'n aback.
She glared at me and sucked on some ice
"You may be right, but you're not very nice!"
"This is an illness that you have to beat,"
I said, "and at least I'm aware that I still have to eat."
g2 - yes, us Canadians can't be bothered to wait for our turkey eatings.
I quite enjoyed yours, by the by. Always makes me happy when I get lazy with my prompt and I check the comments to find a nice long response.
Tam - Hah, 'bad connection' indeed. I like it!
Greg - funny how your poor showings tend to still be brilliant.
"I counted her ribs, stark as a toast-rack.
"Famine?" I guessed and she looked tak'n aback."
I think I've read that bit like five times now. Just makes me happy.
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