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Stockpile
"We frequently hear of people dying from too much drinking. That this happens is a matter of record. But the blame is always placed on whisky. Why this should be I never could understand. You can die from drinking too much of anything; coffee, water, milk, soft drinks and all such stuff as that. And so as long as the presence of death lurks with anyone who goes through the simple act of swallowing. I will make mine [Scotch] whisky."
-- W.C. Fields
I have two visitors coming over the next couple of months, and I'm very excited to see them both. Though both are able to co-exist collectively (we all did fine in Saint Louis) separately one requires much more attention (at least in preparation) than the other, and the activities I'm trying to plan vary wildly on opposite sides of the pendulum.
Both will require transportation from the airport. As these people are unaware of Dallas traffic, they'll both likely be screaming in the passenger seat of my car (think
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danzigfried's first visit). I drive as if I were piloting the Knight Bus in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and traffic in the Metroplex is equally as forgiving. That being said, when one visitor arrives she has no requirements outside of transportation from said terminal to our domicile. As it will be later in the evening, her transportation is already set. I see no problems or issues arising from it. The other, however, requires the the vehicle be at exactly 71-degrees and that a measure of single-malt Scotch be awaiting him in the passenger cabin upon his entrance into the vehicle. Though with my first guest there will be much chattering and catching up during the half-hour drive, my other guest prefers silence until exactly 15-minutes into my drive. He's very precise, you see. Needs his time to "unwind."While both guests and I have plenty of catching up to do, the care and feeding of one is going to be much more simplistic than the other. Both will be sleeping in the kids room's during their visit, but one demands 600-thread count Egyptian Cotton sheets. Our first breakfast will be lots of fun for both visitors, and though the menu of one visitor is not set, she'll no doubt enjoy whatever morning feast we serve, while the other requires a single slice of dry rye toast, and a single egg over-easy and 8-ounces of coffee at exactly 112-degrees Fahrenheit.
Even though I haven't seen either of these visitors in several months, it will be like we were never apart once they arrive. I am notorious for picking right up where we left off and having a really good time. That is, once I get the list of pre-approved conversations from my more *ahem* structured guest. My wife has events planned and sites to see with our first visitor - I'll be lucky to be able to tag along a couple of days into the visit. The other guest is bringing his own agenda. I'm waiting in eager anticipation to see if I'll be asked to accompany him.
With our first visitor, my wife has picked up a couple of bottles of wine and fun things like "chocolate tequila." She is so much fun and so easy-going I anticipate a great time all around. My other visitor is like Madam Maxine's flying horses from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire - he only drinks single-malt whisky, so I've been feverishly stockpiling Scotch. No matter how much I have, I'm afraid it won't be enough. He requires a dram an hour. You've heard of a mean drunk? My second visitor only gets angry if he doesn't drink!
I'm very excited to see both my friends.
We're hosting a large block-party for the first visitor - she already engages in conversation with the locals of Anna, and I have people coming from all over the Metroplex to meet her. My other friend, well, not only are his arrival dates and times kept until the most strict of confidences, I've agreed we're not to leave the house except under the cover of darkness, and to avoid as much human contact as possible. He's written a backstory I've memorized to explain his presence here in Texas.
Either way, how much fun can a person have?
I rock.
Who loves ya?
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