March 19, 1998 (#22), (and before ...)

"Trudy you horrible sod, how could you!" and she slammed that door like the side of a cargo van as she walked out and broke three panes on the chandelier.

My sweet sometime friend who I shall refer to as Ursula because I always adored the character in the movie version of "Bye Bye Birdie." She's Kim's best friend - her Ethel Mertz. Well, not exactly but something is right in that comparison.

So, Ursula was over one day while I was out running errands. Abattoir, poor dear kind soul, let Ursula and sat her in the library somewhat closer than I would have to the liquor. Actually I don't know that Abattoir let her in, his comprehension skills are just this side of Constantinople and I suspect he simply placed her like he might any delivered parcel and went on with his putterings.

In any event, there sat poor dear Ursula, alone and tempted. Ursula happens to simply live for bourbon and in particular, a bourbon that a lovely couple in Georgia whip up for me from time to time. I think Abattoir may have passed by with a couple of glasses and a few ice cubes, just in case. He is, after all, a good valet.

Ursie proceeds to help herself and Abattoir. Perfectly acceptable. I would do exactly the same thing in her position. In fact, I probably would have asked for a glass and some ice before I had removed my gloves. Ursula went to finshing school.

When I returned, I found my lovely friend and a well exercised bottle of hard to come by bourbon. Abattoir was nowhere to be found (I smelled it on his breath later -- from across the room) I suppose I was a bit miffed, but then I wasn't the warm and toasty one either at that point. My sweet companion rose to greet me and offered me a bit of my bourbon.

As I recall, and I suspect that those in the room might have a different version, my tightlipped but pleasant commentwent something like "Ursie, dear, I think perhaps that if you would like to continue drinking bourbon, I had better take a scotch as I don't see there's enough left for both of us."

Well, maybe it was more like "if you would like to continuing drinking my bourbon..." and "...I don't see as you've left enough..." But these are details.

She started to drop an ice cube in the glass, turned and looked at me for a minute or two and suddenly her eyes welled up and out she went.

I still have her gloves.
Trudy