My coworker M- has her first barbecue at her new house out in Bolingbrook. I show up early because I drop my wife off in the morning and if I stop in the house I’m lost. Home means I’m never going out, not even to M-’s house.
So I arrive early and walk down a nature trail conveniently planted beneath some power lines (she lives in a subdivision where you pretty much have to drive to get around). When I return, it’s almost time for the party to start, but I’m the first one there.
So I do what every party animal does. I sleep on the couch.
And it’s such a nice couch.
It’s in a room that ONLY has soft chairs. And maybe a table. I don’t remember the table, though, because I don’t sleep on it. I sleep on the sectional couch and am vaguely aware of M- giving tours of the house to party people.
“And this room has Felix on the couch.”
I’m not sure of the exact words as I drift in and out of sleep.
Finally, when enough people show up, I wake up and try to interact and eat. Ok, I wake up to eat. And more and more people arrive and they’re outside, they’re inside, they’re talking and watching television, and chasing little kids from room to room, they’re singing Happy Birthday to T-, and suddenly there’s just too many people.
I go back to the couch and sleep again.
And it’s not even dark yet.