I am turning into Alcoholly's "Yes Man" and I hate it. This weekend's visit with Alcoholly went very, very badly. I felt sick after seeing her. I hate pretending that she is right. I really like the above picture of her and I together. Erik took it a few months ago and it describes our relationship perfectly. We are always sitting on the couch with that little pink tv tray. She hands me her bills and gives me very strange advice. I am always smiling like she is perfectly normal.
Some of you might find this hard to believe, but it is very hard for me to be honest when it is rude. Here are a few select conversations, along with my response:
On moving into an assisted living community:
Alcoholly: The number one reason I would never do that is because there are always 10 old ladies shuffling around and then one old man who is so hyped up on Viagra, he can't sit down.
My response: Yes. Yes. That makes perfect sense.
On my appearance:
Alcoholly: Darling, there are not a lot of people in Tonga that have heard of Mormons. You are a lovely girl, but if you do not dress and look better they will think very poorly of your religion.
My response: Of course! (Keep in mind that while she was telling me this she was wearing a faded navy blue skort that barely covered her thighs, a low cut hot pink shirt, nude colored pantyhose with a run, and red loafers.)
On making friends:
Alcoholly: I need a man to do things around the house, but not one that requires that I say thank you in bed.
My response: Yeah, that's, uh, hard to find.