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grrgoylDay IV: The Gathering Storm
Friday, and it was time to head down to CT for the wedding portion of the trip. We were hitching a ride with LS (the reasons for protecting her true identity will become clear before very long), who also lives in Boston and was a bridesmaid. I mentioned before the dangerously crazy driving that is the norm in Boston. My sister drives a Jeep Wrangler and is the perfect blend of careful, aggressive and for the most part alert. LS is only aggressive, which without its companions is scarier than if she had none of these traits. She also drives a VW Jetta; I know I rant about SUVs, but there was a definite difference between braving those streets from Jeep height vs. Jetta height. Needless to say I had some serious trust issues. First she parked smack in front of a fire hydrant to run in for coffee, leaving us sitting there while pedestrians glared at us for our flagrant disregard for the law. She pulled out of this stop without looking and almost got us all killed. At the second stop she narrowly missed taking out a cyclist who flew by within inches of us; she turned to us to laugh about it and tried again, narrowly missing taking out the guy's buddy who was right behind him. At this point Tery explained that rearview mirrors are intended for more than just cosmetic touchups. My god, what a ditz. She did better on the open highway and I slept almost the whole ride down.
Some back story on LS: She has known Tery's family since childhood but is exceedingly and unhealthily neurotic and sensitive, so not surprisingly the 5 Dombrowski children, once they realized how easily they could destroy her, have not stopped picking on her since. She moved in with Tery's sister Michelle when they went to school in Boston, where she developed a very "Single White Female" kind of crush on her that sadly has left her scarred to this day. Michelle is 100% straight and has been steadily trying to push her out of her life (we suspect she only made her a bridesmaid out of fear of LS slitting her wrists had she been excluded). LS claims to have moved on, making new friends, getting medicated, officially coming out of the closet and carving her own niche, but as you will see she still has a long road ahead of her.
Unfortunately LS was our only ride for the whole weekend...unfortunate because she is scatterbrained and kind of selfish on top of being a complete Looney Toon. Friday wasn't too bad but Saturday, the Big Day, started out rather unpleasantly. LS had saved her leftovers from the rehearsal dinner, a very expensive plate of fish, which Jason, the youngest brother, had taken out of the fridge to make room for his Jello shots, spoiling it. I had to take her side on this one, I thought that was unbelievably thoughtless of him, but that's how he is and always will be because there are never any consequences for him. The point is we then had to spend the morning getting grinders (another New England specialty that I will now miss until my next visit) because who knew when we'd get the chance to eat again. I ate mine en route at some point, but the other three we bought (for LS, Tery and Michelle) ended up sitting in the car all day and night. We put them in the fridge before the party and they ultimately got eaten by Tery's father, who rapaciously devours anything in the house that isn't nailed down. It's a very dog-eat-dog, kill-or-be-killed family, and frankly I have no idea how she lasted hanging around them as long as she has.
Between the ceremony and the reception, LS claimed Michelle had forgotten her lipstick at home and we needed to stop for it. This turned out to be a lie...actually LS and Jason wanted to stop for a quick Jello shot to tide them over. Because for some reason the day was so stressful for THEM that they needed a buzz to cope. Meanwhile Tery, the maid of honor, was with us and desperate to get to the hall for the professional photo shoot. She was so anxious she honked the horn to get their asses in gear, which is not like her at all. Her stress caused me to be stressed, which made LS nervous because she thought I was mad at her. I explained I was only mad on behalf of Tery. Her whole attitude was still a little too "Chill out, will you, what's the big deal?" for either of our tastes. Later speculation was that she just couldn't stand for Michelle to have a day when it wasn't all about LS, and I'm inclined to agree.
We had all decided on the way over that I was most definitely to be the designated driver later. So it was mystifying as to why LS, who herself was carrying a purse, gave her keys to someone else to hold, who had left to get Benadryl for her daughter (the person in question was Tery's sister-in-law, who is addicted to 12-step programs (or "her meetings" as she calls them) to the point of tragically neglecting her three children and husband. Thus when she couldn't be found, Tery wondered if she hadn't grabbed "a quick meeting" in between the ceremony and the reception). We left all our camera equipment in LS's car thinking the professionals would have it covered, but then decided it would be nice to get some shots. For an hour we couldn't get to the cameras and it was making Tery and me crazy. When we finally tracked down the keys and I went out to the car, whoever had used them last had left the front door unlocked with our camera and camcorder sitting plain as day on the backseat. Very nice. Luckily the hall was a very hoity-toity place whose clients would probably see our "high-end" stuff as good enough only to give to their kids as toys.
My last straw with LS came after the reception, when there was an after-party at the Dombrowskis. I remember well how much this family enjoys partying; big, loud, drunken revelries that last well into the following morning. Back when it was a monthly thing I had built up a tolerance, but I'd been out of the game for 5 years at this point and I decided a few hours alone at the empty bride and groom's house sounded far more appealing. Tery assured me it was fine, LS was well on her way to being trashed out of (what little remains of) her mind, I should just take the car and head back. I didn't even get the key into the ignition when LS appeared out of nowhere, screaming at me, "Where the FUCK do you think you're going with my car????" My first thought was "Where the FUCK do you THINK I'm going?" I mean, it wasn't like I was going back to Boston. But she was clearly unhinged and I didn't want to make this even uglier. I told her the party was too much for me and Tery said it was alright. "No, no, no. You are NOT taking my car anywhere," she slurred at me, and lunged for her keys. I yanked them away and said, "Well you certainly aren't getting these keys from me in your condition" and stormed into the house. Tery sat down with her, talked a little sense into her, and she calmed down. She followed me back out, saying it would have been nice if someone had asked her (I agreed, but we all thought she was utterly wasted) and making me promise not to wreck it. Ellen, Tery's cousin, was on the porch watching all this and called out to her, "You want me to drive, L? I mean, I've had a few drinks. Elaine hasn't had any, but I'd be happy to drive your car." Oh, this didn't help. I got out of there as fast as I could.
I got back to Michelle and Michael's and hadn't even taken my sandals off when the phone rang and I recognized the Dombrowskis' number. It was none other than LS, wanting me to come back and pick her up. Oh, you motherfucking, spiteful, lunatic bitch. It was only 10 minutes away, not a big deal, if not for the fact that I knew damn well she was just playing games with me. So I don't feel so bad that I was completely unaware of two large boulders off at the edge of the driveway and I accidentally backed over them so the rear tire temporarily got wedged and the undercarriage of the car made a godawful scraping noise going over them. Perhaps Ellen SHOULD have driven. Oh well. LS lives in Boston. She'll never notice.
I got back to the Dombrowskis and acted nice as pie with her. The problem seemed to be she had loaned her pajama bottoms to another woman who was even drunker than her and refused to leave without getting them back. Ah, the logic of the debilitatingly inebriated. We thought the woman had left and LS had a mini-fit of hysteria on the spot. "You don't understand!!!" she shrieked for all the neighbors to hear, "I LOST MY VIRGINITY IN THOSE PANTS!!!!!!" Oh sweet baby Jesus, WHEN would I be left alone tonight? I didn't even ask why she would loan someone something that obviously had such enormous sentimental value to her. Tery was at her wit's end. She was saying things like "They aren't going to vaporize if you don't get them back tonight." Very true, but clearly Tery has no experience reasoning with people as drunk as LS. We finally found the woman passed out in her husband's car and got the damn pants back.
Then, the drive home. I learned too late that LS creates this high drama for the sole purpose of then being able to analyze it, and re-analyze it, and discuss it, and deliberate about it, and analyze it some more until she's sure you understand every imaginable nuance of the situation from her perspective. To her tonight was just the culmination of a lifetime of abuse and harassment suffered at the hands of the Dombrowski family. Ellen's snide little remark earlier was just another nail in the coffin, just another example of how they all gang up on her. She was thankful that this was the last big event she would be attending. I tried to be sympathetic, hoping it would get her to shut up. I pointed out that, although it was way too late now, perhaps if she didn't let them know how much they got to her they would have given up picking on her a long time ago. This concept was a bit too evolved for her in her current state. The Dombrowskis made her realize that people would walk all over her her entire life unless she stood up for herself. She's probably right, however I really have no interest in getting involved in a relationship that might take years of therapy to recover from (for her, not me). Once back at the house it took forever to get to bed because when you are that drunk, a closed bedroom door (or for that matter multiple "Good nights") apparently isn't an adequate deterrent to continuing a conversation that was already well and truly beaten into the ground. Oy vey.
In between all this nonsense there was actually a beautiful wedding with a radiant bride and groom. See for yourself:
The family invited me to be in the portrait of siblings and spouses, which made me feel tremendously honored. At the reception I asked Michelle if she minded if Tery and I danced the Anniversary Dance (where married couples are dismissed from the floor until the one with the most longevity is left) and her face crumbled. She couldn't believe I even felt the need to ask. She said we had better dance it, and then she dissolved into tears as she thanked me for taking such good care of her sister. I didn't cry so much at even my own sister's wedding. I will try to forget that our special dance was ruined by the Pajama Bottom Drunk, who broke in to make it a threesome so she could drag us into the center to find her son and daughter-in-law. Thanks, Pajama Bottom Drunk. Maybe at the next party you should stick to club soda. I thought I had met most of the Dombrowskis, but they were just coming out of the woodwork. I told Tery next time I would need a slideshow presentation and an opportunity to study first, because they all knew me (from stories), leaving me at a distinct disadvantage.
It was a very long day and no one could have been more thrilled than I was when it was over (except possibly Michelle and Michael).
Next: Lebanon Revisited
Friday, and it was time to head down to CT for the wedding portion of the trip. We were hitching a ride with LS (the reasons for protecting her true identity will become clear before very long), who also lives in Boston and was a bridesmaid. I mentioned before the dangerously crazy driving that is the norm in Boston. My sister drives a Jeep Wrangler and is the perfect blend of careful, aggressive and for the most part alert. LS is only aggressive, which without its companions is scarier than if she had none of these traits. She also drives a VW Jetta; I know I rant about SUVs, but there was a definite difference between braving those streets from Jeep height vs. Jetta height. Needless to say I had some serious trust issues. First she parked smack in front of a fire hydrant to run in for coffee, leaving us sitting there while pedestrians glared at us for our flagrant disregard for the law. She pulled out of this stop without looking and almost got us all killed. At the second stop she narrowly missed taking out a cyclist who flew by within inches of us; she turned to us to laugh about it and tried again, narrowly missing taking out the guy's buddy who was right behind him. At this point Tery explained that rearview mirrors are intended for more than just cosmetic touchups. My god, what a ditz. She did better on the open highway and I slept almost the whole ride down.
Some back story on LS: She has known Tery's family since childhood but is exceedingly and unhealthily neurotic and sensitive, so not surprisingly the 5 Dombrowski children, once they realized how easily they could destroy her, have not stopped picking on her since. She moved in with Tery's sister Michelle when they went to school in Boston, where she developed a very "Single White Female" kind of crush on her that sadly has left her scarred to this day. Michelle is 100% straight and has been steadily trying to push her out of her life (we suspect she only made her a bridesmaid out of fear of LS slitting her wrists had she been excluded). LS claims to have moved on, making new friends, getting medicated, officially coming out of the closet and carving her own niche, but as you will see she still has a long road ahead of her.
Unfortunately LS was our only ride for the whole weekend...unfortunate because she is scatterbrained and kind of selfish on top of being a complete Looney Toon. Friday wasn't too bad but Saturday, the Big Day, started out rather unpleasantly. LS had saved her leftovers from the rehearsal dinner, a very expensive plate of fish, which Jason, the youngest brother, had taken out of the fridge to make room for his Jello shots, spoiling it. I had to take her side on this one, I thought that was unbelievably thoughtless of him, but that's how he is and always will be because there are never any consequences for him. The point is we then had to spend the morning getting grinders (another New England specialty that I will now miss until my next visit) because who knew when we'd get the chance to eat again. I ate mine en route at some point, but the other three we bought (for LS, Tery and Michelle) ended up sitting in the car all day and night. We put them in the fridge before the party and they ultimately got eaten by Tery's father, who rapaciously devours anything in the house that isn't nailed down. It's a very dog-eat-dog, kill-or-be-killed family, and frankly I have no idea how she lasted hanging around them as long as she has.
Between the ceremony and the reception, LS claimed Michelle had forgotten her lipstick at home and we needed to stop for it. This turned out to be a lie...actually LS and Jason wanted to stop for a quick Jello shot to tide them over. Because for some reason the day was so stressful for THEM that they needed a buzz to cope. Meanwhile Tery, the maid of honor, was with us and desperate to get to the hall for the professional photo shoot. She was so anxious she honked the horn to get their asses in gear, which is not like her at all. Her stress caused me to be stressed, which made LS nervous because she thought I was mad at her. I explained I was only mad on behalf of Tery. Her whole attitude was still a little too "Chill out, will you, what's the big deal?" for either of our tastes. Later speculation was that she just couldn't stand for Michelle to have a day when it wasn't all about LS, and I'm inclined to agree.
We had all decided on the way over that I was most definitely to be the designated driver later. So it was mystifying as to why LS, who herself was carrying a purse, gave her keys to someone else to hold, who had left to get Benadryl for her daughter (the person in question was Tery's sister-in-law, who is addicted to 12-step programs (or "her meetings" as she calls them) to the point of tragically neglecting her three children and husband. Thus when she couldn't be found, Tery wondered if she hadn't grabbed "a quick meeting" in between the ceremony and the reception). We left all our camera equipment in LS's car thinking the professionals would have it covered, but then decided it would be nice to get some shots. For an hour we couldn't get to the cameras and it was making Tery and me crazy. When we finally tracked down the keys and I went out to the car, whoever had used them last had left the front door unlocked with our camera and camcorder sitting plain as day on the backseat. Very nice. Luckily the hall was a very hoity-toity place whose clients would probably see our "high-end" stuff as good enough only to give to their kids as toys.
My last straw with LS came after the reception, when there was an after-party at the Dombrowskis. I remember well how much this family enjoys partying; big, loud, drunken revelries that last well into the following morning. Back when it was a monthly thing I had built up a tolerance, but I'd been out of the game for 5 years at this point and I decided a few hours alone at the empty bride and groom's house sounded far more appealing. Tery assured me it was fine, LS was well on her way to being trashed out of (what little remains of) her mind, I should just take the car and head back. I didn't even get the key into the ignition when LS appeared out of nowhere, screaming at me, "Where the FUCK do you think you're going with my car????" My first thought was "Where the FUCK do you THINK I'm going?" I mean, it wasn't like I was going back to Boston. But she was clearly unhinged and I didn't want to make this even uglier. I told her the party was too much for me and Tery said it was alright. "No, no, no. You are NOT taking my car anywhere," she slurred at me, and lunged for her keys. I yanked them away and said, "Well you certainly aren't getting these keys from me in your condition" and stormed into the house. Tery sat down with her, talked a little sense into her, and she calmed down. She followed me back out, saying it would have been nice if someone had asked her (I agreed, but we all thought she was utterly wasted) and making me promise not to wreck it. Ellen, Tery's cousin, was on the porch watching all this and called out to her, "You want me to drive, L? I mean, I've had a few drinks. Elaine hasn't had any, but I'd be happy to drive your car." Oh, this didn't help. I got out of there as fast as I could.
I got back to Michelle and Michael's and hadn't even taken my sandals off when the phone rang and I recognized the Dombrowskis' number. It was none other than LS, wanting me to come back and pick her up. Oh, you motherfucking, spiteful, lunatic bitch. It was only 10 minutes away, not a big deal, if not for the fact that I knew damn well she was just playing games with me. So I don't feel so bad that I was completely unaware of two large boulders off at the edge of the driveway and I accidentally backed over them so the rear tire temporarily got wedged and the undercarriage of the car made a godawful scraping noise going over them. Perhaps Ellen SHOULD have driven. Oh well. LS lives in Boston. She'll never notice.
I got back to the Dombrowskis and acted nice as pie with her. The problem seemed to be she had loaned her pajama bottoms to another woman who was even drunker than her and refused to leave without getting them back. Ah, the logic of the debilitatingly inebriated. We thought the woman had left and LS had a mini-fit of hysteria on the spot. "You don't understand!!!" she shrieked for all the neighbors to hear, "I LOST MY VIRGINITY IN THOSE PANTS!!!!!!" Oh sweet baby Jesus, WHEN would I be left alone tonight? I didn't even ask why she would loan someone something that obviously had such enormous sentimental value to her. Tery was at her wit's end. She was saying things like "They aren't going to vaporize if you don't get them back tonight." Very true, but clearly Tery has no experience reasoning with people as drunk as LS. We finally found the woman passed out in her husband's car and got the damn pants back.
Then, the drive home. I learned too late that LS creates this high drama for the sole purpose of then being able to analyze it, and re-analyze it, and discuss it, and deliberate about it, and analyze it some more until she's sure you understand every imaginable nuance of the situation from her perspective. To her tonight was just the culmination of a lifetime of abuse and harassment suffered at the hands of the Dombrowski family. Ellen's snide little remark earlier was just another nail in the coffin, just another example of how they all gang up on her. She was thankful that this was the last big event she would be attending. I tried to be sympathetic, hoping it would get her to shut up. I pointed out that, although it was way too late now, perhaps if she didn't let them know how much they got to her they would have given up picking on her a long time ago. This concept was a bit too evolved for her in her current state. The Dombrowskis made her realize that people would walk all over her her entire life unless she stood up for herself. She's probably right, however I really have no interest in getting involved in a relationship that might take years of therapy to recover from (for her, not me). Once back at the house it took forever to get to bed because when you are that drunk, a closed bedroom door (or for that matter multiple "Good nights") apparently isn't an adequate deterrent to continuing a conversation that was already well and truly beaten into the ground. Oy vey.
In between all this nonsense there was actually a beautiful wedding with a radiant bride and groom. See for yourself:
Have you ever seen a more perfect-looking couple?
The family invited me to be in the portrait of siblings and spouses, which made me feel tremendously honored. At the reception I asked Michelle if she minded if Tery and I danced the Anniversary Dance (where married couples are dismissed from the floor until the one with the most longevity is left) and her face crumbled. She couldn't believe I even felt the need to ask. She said we had better dance it, and then she dissolved into tears as she thanked me for taking such good care of her sister. I didn't cry so much at even my own sister's wedding. I will try to forget that our special dance was ruined by the Pajama Bottom Drunk, who broke in to make it a threesome so she could drag us into the center to find her son and daughter-in-law. Thanks, Pajama Bottom Drunk. Maybe at the next party you should stick to club soda. I thought I had met most of the Dombrowskis, but they were just coming out of the woodwork. I told Tery next time I would need a slideshow presentation and an opportunity to study first, because they all knew me (from stories), leaving me at a distinct disadvantage.
It was a very long day and no one could have been more thrilled than I was when it was over (except possibly Michelle and Michael).
Next: Lebanon Revisited