Enough

Every summer my husband and I pack up the kids (and my mom) and drive down to the beach for a conference he attends there. During the mornings, he's in classes (we're at the beach/pool), and at night, there are different "forced socializing" events held by the Banks and/or Trust Companies to wine-and-dine the attorneys.

As previously discussed, small talk at these events is NOT my forte. I've been out of the workforce for a million years, don't golf or play tennis, and generally have scant little in common with any of the people at these functions. The best I can do to not embarrass my husband or myself is to stand with a cocktail, nod and smile at whomever is talking to me, and wait for an appropriate moment to make a graceful exit. This social model has served me well time-and -time again. Except for: THE SIT DOWN DINNER.

At THE SIT DOWN DINNER, my husband and I arrive at the restaurant dressed beautifully. We are immediately greeted by our charming host and his elegant wife, who make pleasantries and hand me a cocktail. So far, so good. Of course, as an adult, it is my job to judge when I've had "enough" to drink. Yet for some reason, on this particular evening, the signal for when I've had "enough" became hard to spot.

Before Larry and I are escorted to our assigned seats at THE SIT DOWN DINNER, the mingling continues over cocktails. I wonder to myself, "is this the 2nd or 3rd Bourbon and Coke I've consumed?" THAT should have been the signal I've had "enough". But sadly, it wasn't.

We then go to our assigned table for dinner. I'm against the wall, with Larry across from me and said "charming host" to my right. Wine is poured, food is served. I wonder to myself, "what did I order again???". THAT should have been the signal I've had "enough". But sadly, it wasn't.

The entree comes (oh, yay! I ordered the fish!), more wine is poured. I'm engaged in conversation with my table-buddies and proceed to knock over my glass of wine. "Charming Host" quickly righted my glass and nobody was the wiser. Again, THAT should have been the signal I've indeed had "enough". Sigh. It wasn't.

The piece de resistance was just before dessert was served. I looked down at my charger plate, and saw a puddle. A puddle from the wine I had earlier spilled. A puddle that would prevent me from putting dessert onto that plate. Brainstorm! I pick up the charger plate and tilt it, slowly dripping and spilling the red wine that had puddled in it onto the white table cloth of the SIT DOWN DINNER'S table.

THAT was the signal my husband and I BOTH needed to indicate that I finally had "ENOUGH".