Socializing

I am married to someone who hates socializing. Absolutely hates it! He does it for a living, and has no intention to do it after working hours. Tonight we were invited for dinner. He’s been squirming and squiggling and wiggling in all directions to cancel it. Finally the wife figured the best way was to contact me: I confirmed, set a date and time. Dinner set; no excuses possible. Still, he was hoping for something that would give him a reason to cancel it. And these are people he actually LIKES a lot and greatly enjoys sitting with. During the day. So tonight is the night. Nobody broke a leg, no one died in the family. Shop didn’t flood, police didn’t call a curfew, car didn’t break down, child did not fall and required stitches at the emergency ward. No political assassinations. Nothing nothing nothing.So then he calls, to ask for directions. This is somewhere up in Adma, a region in the foothills above Beirut. And I hear him say: “Wow, so you completely lost it? (voice, that is) I’m so sorry to hear it. You’re okay? You’re sure? If you feel like canceling it, that’s fine by me (notice the ‘me’, rather than the ‘we’), I mean, we can schedule this any time, no problem.” I can just imagine the ‘him’ on the other side of the line, receiving a cattle prod from the ‘he’. No way are we going to cancel this dinner; I’m all dressed up and ready to go.Well, we did go, and it was a very nice dinner. These guys have a fantastic view. The view form my house is pretty good, but it’s no Bay of Beirut. This is taken from the dining room. Halfway dinner we had a power cut (happens all the time), so then it turned out real romantic too.

And while standing in the elevator, I noticed hubbie's pockets; now why would anyone need so many pens? He's not using it to write notes to me.