Drunk Dialing

We sat around and waited and waited and waited for the girls to figure it out - and they never did.

One evening during our interminable wait, we guys were sitting on the porch, drinking wine and venting our impatience.

We talked about drunk dialing the girls. Emphasizing the sloppy speech of the drunk, we'd tell them to go visit the property and be mysterious, vague and giggle a lot.

Well we joked about it, but we weren't really going to do it.

But then....the next night, I'd already gone to bed and Mike was drinking without a chaperone and we have e-mail at home, so...

He sent a note to S.

S,

I hope you are wonderful, as I always thought you were!

I've had a bit to drink this evening and had a wonderful Roger Waters night of it.

Please don't share this email with anyone, Rick and Chuck would be so disappointed in me.

GO OUT TO YOUR PROPERTY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There's a little present there from the three of us. (Yes, this has to do with the odd clues you've been getting in the mail.
I hope you haven't called the police - that's really not necessary.)

You're best friend from afar. (We only see each other every six months or so - I hate that.)

Ooh and awe if you must,

Mike

P.S. We have pictures!!!!!!!!


So neither Rick nor I knew this little communique had occurred.

The next day - Rick called, he'd finished the bejeweled spoon for the cast iron urn. (When you use the outhouse, you should ladle a spoonful of hydrated lime into the hole to help speed the decaying process and prevent odor.) He was now looking for hydrated lime. We're chatting on the phone and I stepped outside to include Mike in the conversation (he was working on the patio) and Mike revealed his terrible secret.

"I sent S. a note last night."

! ! ! ! ! !

Phone in hand I sped to the computer to see exactly what Mike'd written and read it aloud to Rick. Rick sped right over and we had a little three-way consultation.

First of all ... I was tickled pink not to be the first to 'crack.'

YAY ! Mike crumbled, not me.

So we called S. I was torn. Tell her? Don't tell her?

I told her that Mike had been drinking and sent an e-mail and we were toying with the idea of asking her not to read it and she immediately said "Okay!"

But I couldn't let the reveal go for another stretch of time, so I just read the e-mail to her. (She wouldn't have seen the e-mail until she went to work, so why wait?)

And we asked if she had time to meet us at the property that day - she did - and would meet us in 75 minutes.

We immediately launched into action.

Rick jumped in the car and sped to Wal-Mart, K-Mart and Martins for gift wrapping items and elegant lunch items.

I ran around the house collecting champagne glasses, wicker basket, picture book of the outhouse project, scissors, tape, cheese tray, knife, etc.

Mike and I jumped in the Jeep, met Rick at the grocery store and helped find a few quick items.

All of us are now in the Jeep. I'm driving, Rick is wrapping, Mike is passing wrapping items up from the back seat (and complaining about my wreckless speed).

I admit I was driving a bit fast, but we needed to get there first and set the atmosphere.