“Don’t freak out over the live things in the fridge, okay?”

May 4, 2005 § 2 Comments

Whackadoodle weekend was a little more uneventful than expected.  My sister and her husband rolled into town Sunday afternoon, followed by my mother and her boyfriend in the evening.  The boy and I showed them around Midtown, the West side, and Virginia Highland.

We planned on eating at Six Feet Under, but found the restaurant was closed due to a plumbing issue.  I was all kinds of excited to eat my dinner from a bucket, so I pouted for a while.  In our scrubbiest duds, we headed over Inman Park and found ourselves dining at Wisteria.  It was my first time, and I was impressed with the food and service.  The other patrons, however, were a little disturbed by our flip flops, the fact that my mom’s boyfriend had to be reminded to take off his NASCAR hat, and that my brother in law guzzled down six crown and ginger’s in a matter of 15 minutes.  My mom wanted seafood, so we convinced her to order the skate without telling her what it was.  After we placed our orders, my sister and I simultaneously began yelling, "It’s like a stingray!  A stingray!"  I admit it was a little much, but apparently after spending $300 on dinner, rednecks are always welcome.

The next morning we went to the West Egg for breakfast, which always confuses me since I always forget they only have table service on the weekends.  My sister and brother in law continued their trip up north.  After explaining all the options to my mom, she decided she only wanted to visit one place in Atlanta:  Chinatown.  The problem is that Atlanta DOESN’T HAVE A CHINATOWN.  Yes, Chamblee has a scary looking mall called "Chinatown" but we only stayed there for a couple of minutes to take a picture.  I took them down Buford Highway between Doraville and Chamblee to my favorite Asian market, Ranch 99, and showed them a few of the meat section’s LIVE specialties (don’t worry, I only came home with crawfish).  Later that evening the Meeting of the Moms took place at our pad. My mom completely ignored the boy’s very southern mom and her every effort to start a conversation, instead keeping her attention fixed upon the tv.

After many apologies and sending everyone AWAY, the boy and I shook our heads at everything that transpired.  I began laughing as we both lay on the bed staring at the ceiling: 

"It’s not that I’m embarrassed by them in that ‘oh my god my family is just so weird’ way.  It’s just that I’m so tired of explaining it to people, so I just stand by and watch, too."

§ 2 Responses to “Don’t freak out over the live things in the fridge, okay?”

  • Paulie says:

    I just *knew* that the Chinatown to which you referred was the one I was thinking about. My co-workers and I head up to that food court for lunch about once a week. 🙂

  • mingaling says:

    You have got to be the only white person that goes there – I love it. At least I can be half-breed incognito.

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