J.C. and I were bored and flipping through what was available on Showtime-On-Demand, even though, at the time, we didn't have Showtime. The second season of Weeds was on there, and so were the first eight or so episodes of Dexter, a new series based on the novel Darkly Dreaming Dexter, which I read the summer I was training pharmaceutical reps. We figured the ten bucks a month was worth it to spend a few hours Sunday watching TV, so I went downstairs and called the cable company and in ten minutes we were watching Weeds.
Three episodes into the second season, the phone started ringing. We don't have a phone upstairs, so I waited for the episode to finish, during which the phone rang yet another time, and then went downstairs to see who it was. The first call was my brother. The second, my parents. I called my parents first, and my mom answered.
"What's up?" I said.
"Umm, we're waiting for you."
"You are?"
"Yeah. It's grandma's birthday. Everyone's here."
Twenty minutes later we headed to my parents' place, feeling terrible, an hour late for my grandma's eightieth birthday party.
1 comment:
I actually have mixed feelings about Weeds. It's like candy--incredibly fun to eat but in the end not all that satisfying.
Really, we both just forgot about the party, even though we'd seen grandma on Thursday--and told her we'd see her Sunday.
I still feel guilty, and I sent grandma flowers on Monday. Okay, Tuesday, but I ordered them (late) on Monday.
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