trip update 2: sippin Cristal with my homies

On Monday morning, after G and I had showered and gotten dressed, we went downstairs and Madre immediately went into feeding mode: “What would you like to eat? I can make omelets, French toast, scrambled eggs…you want bagels? How about yogurt?” I can barely remember my own name first thing in the morning, much less make complicated decisions about breakfast, so I went with scrambled eggs. Oh, so light and fluffy! Truly, as G once said, cooking is the Frenchman’s alchemy.

After breakfast, G and I retreated to the den to wait for Padre to return with the next guests: G’s older sister A, brother-in-law J (who I’d already met when he was in LA on business), and nephews I (11) and D (8). I was especially eager to meet his nephews, because G is so in love with those kids (not in a Michael Jackson kind of way, mind), and for as long as I’ve known him, he’s talked about how funny and smart they are. He warned me that he wasn’t sure how they would react to me, because they’d never met one of his “ho’s” before (this teasing comment earned him a swat), but that they would be polite if nothing else.

Slightly under an hour had passed when we heard the garage door opening, and suddenly the house was filled with excited screams of “Uncle G, Uncle G!” The kids made a beeline for G, clinging to his legs like little curly-headed barnacles. He knelt down and hugged them, and when they finally pulled away from him, they looked up at me.

“Guys, remember I told you I was bringing my friend C? This is her,” G said.

“Hello,” they said simultaneously, regarding me warily.

“Be nice to her or I’ll cut your hair while you sleep.”

They exploded into giggles and then ran out of the room to say hello to Madre. A and J had come into the room by this time, and hugs were exchanged all around. After they’d put away their suitcases, the kids dragged G and me into the living room for a wild game of Jenga. Soon the previously immaculate floor was covered with coins, playing cards, and Jenga blocks.

Eventually, Padre called us all into the kitchen and held up a huge bottle of Cristal. “I’ve been saving this for a special occasion, and this certainly qualifies,” he said, popping it open and pouring each of the adults a generous glass.

The few times I’ve had champagne in the past, it gave me a headache. Not this! Oh no, my friends, this was some truly good shit. I finally know what all those rappers are talking about. It really was, as Dom Perignon himself said, like drinking stars.

Next, we all sat down at a dining room table that practically groaned under the weight of the food. G isn’t much of an eater, but the one thing he always talks about admiringly is his mother’s roast chicken, so I was anxious to try it…and lo, it was good. I also had roasted potatoes and a dinner roll and, for dessert, a piece of Madre’s homemade cheesecake. It was honestly the best damn cheesecake I’ve ever had, and I don’t joke about no cheesecake. It made Cheesecake Factory taste like goat shit on a graham cracker crust. For the first time in our dating history, G finished eating before me, and I think he probably ate twice as much to boot.

After dinner, the kids wanted to watch Sky High, so we obliged. When G put the DVD into the machine, the screen went blue for a couple of seconds, and D said, “Oh, the primary colors show! I love this show!” May I remind you that this kid is eight? I sure wasn’t making jokes like that when I was eight friggin’ years old. My sense of humor at that age ran more towards alleging that whereas girls went to Mars to get candy bars, boys went to Jupiter just to get stupider. Anyway, I cannot put Sky High on my media update list because I fell asleep and missed all but the first ten and the last twenty minutes. I am despondent, as you can imagine.

Once the movie had ended, everyone decided to go to bed except me, G, and his father. They’re addicted to cryptic crosswords, which are just diabolically difficult. Last month, I read a book called PopCo which included a cryptic crossword at the end, so we brought a copy of the puzzle and worked on it together. It was brutal, but I was quite pleased with myself when I managed to get a couple of the clues. I am so smart, I am so smart, S-M-R-T, smart smart smart smart!

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On Tuesday morning, G and I slept late and then we stumbled to the kitchen and poured ourselves a cup of ambition…wait, I’m channeling Dolly Parton again, sorry. But we did stumble to the kitchen for scrambled eggs and Canadian bacon, and then everyone piled into the car for the day’s activities.

Padre is an excellent photographer, and he had a small exhibit showing in Princeton, so we went there and checked it out. Afterwards, we walked around the beautiful campus, pictures of which follow. I can’t remember what any of these buildings were called, and I can't seem to get all of the pictures the same size, so...um...sorry and stuff.



















When we got back to the house, I joined G and the lads for several spirited rounds of Jenga. At one point, Padre came into the room and said, “Hey, C, I hear you’re scared to sit on the couches.”

“G!” I hissed, embarrassed as hell.

“Go on, give it a try,” he said, gesturing at the infamous couches.

Nervously, I stood up and walked over to the couch. I gingerly settled my ass down, fearing spontaneous incontinence or explosive diarrhea. I counted to ten in my head and then immediately stood up and returned to the Jenga stack.

The damn thing wasn’t even comfortable.

At dusk, Padre lit the menorah, and as everyone recited the prayer I stood there in my gentile ignorance. Then we had a meal of beef brisket and latkes (special onion-free ones for me!), followed by more of that incredible cheesecake.

Everyone went to bed around 10 because we had to get up early for New York City the next day. Since that was only 8PM our time, G and I had a hard time falling asleep, and we lay there and talked. We kept laughing over stupid things, and one comment in particular caused us to go into paroxysms of hysteria.

Once we’d finally calmed down, he leaned in to kiss me goodnight, and I had to pull away to belch loudly and lustily.

“Wow, I’m the luckiest guy in the world,” he gasped.