Coffee, Stairs, and an Engagement
Me: Morning – I need coffee and Mexican food.
Next day, wake up at my brother’s and, per my usual routine, have coffee. Unfortunately, they only have percolator coffee, which isn’t my favourite but beggars can’t be choosers. At least the pot looks nice.
While going down the stairs, I slip and slide down to the bottom.
Him: You ok?!
Me: I bruised my knee but I think I’m ok. These stairs are dangerous! Do people slip on them all the time?
Him: Nope, you’re the first.
Me: (getting up) Of course I am.
Damn you stairs, my forever enemy.
Him, his girl, and I head off to the local Mexican place. It’s a place that has polite waiters, clean tables, actual silverware, and food you don’t need to unwrap.
Me: (scowling) This isn’t the type of Mexican food I wanted. I wanted food stand food.
Me: It’s what I eat! Plus the wife’s not here.
Still, it’s excellent. I order the fish tacos as I told my wife before I left, that my goal was to eat as many fish tacos as I could here.
After my bro clean up the house for his party. I meet a guy that does the same fencing as I do so we chat for a bit before I politely leave. I’m beat so slip off to bed as I hear my brother start to sing “Hey Jude.” After a few hours, there’s a banging on my door.
Brother: Hey, come back up. I’m asking her to marry me.
Me: Get outta here! (looking down) Suppose I should put on some clothes.
Went back and my bro did the deed on bended knee.
She said yes. It was lovely.
Afterward, went back to the room and lay in bed for five hours wide-awake listening to really drunk karaoke. This was not lovely.
If I am condemned to hell, I imagine it will involve karaoke.
Congrats to my bro!
Location: a guest bedroom, listening to more karaoke
Music: you’ll begin to make it better better better better better better, oh