we then went on a trip into town to get groceries for dinner! it was very exciting. since, as Elizabeth correctly pointed out, all things English seem "cuter and smarter" to Americans, I was loving everything at this grocery store (called Waitrose), including containers for soup, salad dressing, and bottles of soda. we successfully got everything we needed and returned home for lunch and more napping. then when her mom came home--from the 6-7 mile hike that Liz and I said we were going to do but then reneged on when she woke us up at 8:45am--she said she needed to go back into town. to the grocery store. but obviously I was so eager to see more cute food items that I jumped at the opportunity. but then when we got home again and started making the world's most delectable dinner ever (Gaspatcho soup, corn and tomato salad, and potato latkes, with Pim's to drink), we realized we needed MORE THINGS! back to Waitrose!! "Liz do you have the list?" "Yeah!" 5 minutes later..."Liz do you have the list?" "I do." Pulling into Waitrose. "Liz can I have the list?" Searching of pockets...more frantically now...we're pulling off the seatbelt to lift up our butts...getting out of the car to search better for what is clearly not there...No list. bummer. made the trip 30 seconds longer than it would have been with the list but Liz felt bad. good thing she rebounds quickly.
dinner was the most incredible meal ever. I couldn't believe we had made it all! we ate outside because it was such a nice night and when Mama B got really really antsy and couldn't sit still any longer Liz and I got ready to go out with her bffs!!
Sabrina picked us up from Liz's house because we wanted to carpool if people were drinking. She was beautiful and I quickly adored her. so tiny, and has the most precious laugh you've ever heard. They had their doorway reunion (and I got a hug too!) and then Mama came in to say hello and then said "So we're cool with drinking and driving?" to which Sabrina responded "uhhh, well no, I'm not cool with it. but...uhh..." Pretty sure Mom meant "we're cool with rides so that no one will be drinking and driving" but she'd had a long day. just an fyi: NO ONE is "cool" with it.
So we pranced back over the The Running Mare pub from a few nights earlier (which as you might recall had been filled with kids from Liz's high school). Since last night was a Friday, there was a different crowd. older one might say. a little less tame. we took our drinks outside to wait for the 4th member of our party, Jackie, as known as the funniest girl I've ever met. maybe it was the accent, maybe it was the British humour, or maybe she really is the funniest girl who ever lived, but I loved her. The Liz, Sabrina, Jackie Combo is a deadly one. best company of all time. once it got really cool outside and I started getting eaten alive but the mosquitos I didn't think lived in the UK (typical), we moved inside to a table by the bar. Everything was pretty standard until around 11:15 when "Max" showed up. he waltzed right up to our table, sat at a chair a few feet away and just stared. the four of us exchanged suspicious glances. "I'm FUCKed!" says Max. "I mean. not SO fucked that I can't converse, you know. But like, I've had a reasonable amount to drink tonight." ugh. We (mostly Liz and Jackie) humoured him for about 8 minutes until he started getting grumpy--he'd make the next asinine comment and we'd all laugh at him. He started getting really self-conscious and whenever one of us wasn't facing him he'd go "WUH AW YOU SAYING? WHY AW YOU LOFFING?" he'd make half-hearted attempts to get up and go because he thought we hated him (we did) and then he'd stop two steps away and come back and sit down, this time in a stool closer to our table, and continue to babble. go away, Max.
then it got better. Max's dad was also at the bar and was "more FUCKed than he was." max waived over papa bear. "Wuh aw you foive buhds (birds) doing heh?" There were 4 of us girls so I'm assuming he was trying to make a joke and include his son as a bird (a woman).
ha.
ha.
Max had moved into the booth next to Jackie and Sabrina. no touching, Max. but dad was funny, when I could understand him through the drunk and his accent. but then he found out I was American. we had a brief one-sided conversation where he told me that I was only self-conscious about being American because I was American. that being fairly obvious to me, I said mostly nothing. then he asked me "whereabouts the US? Michigan?" Virginia. "OHHHHH VUHGEENIUHHH." yes. (then saw my nose ring.) "is that a real little ring there, in your nose? like a real little...what have you." yes. "well, that's not very Michigan!" Virginia. "that's not very Virginia. you little radical." uh, right. he then badgered me for about 4 minutes what I would like to drink. at this point it is 11:40 and the bar had booted us around 11:30 last time so I didn't think I should have another drink just to have to leave (also I did not care for a drink, least not from mr. laughs over here). I settled with "I have no preference and I think we're leaving soon." dad disappears....
Liz: Omg Chelsea. you're gonna die when you see this.
Through the reflection in the glass I can see that dad is carrying a tray. What can that mean!?!?
He sets it down on the table and it contains 6 shots of a bright green liquid. absinthe? no. Green Sours, shots that "taste like Stahburst. only appley." if you have ever met me, you will know that I do not consume alcohol in the form of a shot. it simply is not so and has not been so for several years. I am averse to the idea so much so that few members of the SAM fraternity at UVA respect me fully and pressure me fully. and yet, I haven't let it happen.
last night. it happened. lucky for me, the shots really did taste like apple starbursts (self-determined through a sniff and a small sip). lucky for me because I truly believe that if I hadn't taken it Max and his dad would have screamed at me or something and who really wants to deal with a drunk and angry Englishman and his socially adept son on their first Friday abroad? not me. i took the shot, got a "nice lips" from the dad (ew), and moments later something offended Max and he finally did storm away. peace, sucka. apparently dad was done making comments about my lips and on to promoting his son because he spent the next 5 minutes jabbering on in drunk about his son's chef job (I'm pretty sure he serves food at a University dining hall) and the languages he speaks (4 supposedly, but that seems doubtful). I told him I didn't really care what languages his son spoke because the kid was too cranky. "Want me to get him back for you?" no. I don't want you to do that. "I'll go get him back for you." time to go. we get the quick advice to "LEG IT!" from a partially concerned citizen sitting at the bar who must have observed the awkward last half hour and we sprinted out a back door to the car. we hid inside it with the lights off (because we were waiting for Jackie's mom) and were all very quiet and very fearful to be discovered. then a boy dressed much like Max (it was Max) sprinted into the bushes right near our car. creepy!? trying to find us!? no. trying to pee in the bushes. only facing the parking lot instead of the shrubbery. definitely creepy.
the night ended, again, with Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream. with a hint of sour apple.
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