Dante's Tour Guide

Last night I had the weirdest tour ever at the brewery. Ken told me afterward that he and the guys who work in the store were watching the group assembling beforehand and said to each other (with a note of trepidation), “This ought to be interesting!” Yeah, lucky them, for not having to be the brunt of all the ensuing interestingness. One man in particular, wearing camouflage and a weird light-blue eyebrow piercing, was horrifyingly uncouth and challenging. He told me before the tour (using small words) that he was a trucker and that he was going to spend the night in our parking lot. Joy. Thankfully, he kept his mouth shut for most of the tour, but it was a strain nonetheless.

The other tour-goers included an intimidating tall guy with long dark hair, clad all in black, wearing some gigantic sort of tooth on a leather thong around his neck and a long black leather trench coat. Also, there were three giddy young kids, one of whom was sporting a pierced cheek (I didn’t know you could do that!) and one black and white striped eye, courtesy of a Halloweeny-themed contact lens. I also got to host a goofy antediluvian couple zooming around on a very large go-carty thing; the wife was standing on the back most of the time behind her husband. It was quite cute, actually--the rest of the time they spent snuggled on the front seat together. Fortunately, there was also one middle-aged couple whom I am eternally grateful to for gracing me with their rapt presence. They were my anchor. Whenever the rest of the crowd gaped at me in stony silence when I made my increasingly infrequent attempts at humor, I looked at this couple and was fortified by the expressions of gleeful anticipation on their faces. They were right there for me the whole tour. My rock, my salvation! I told them so afterward, too.

The guy in the trench coat actually turned out to be very nice, and asked some interesting and thoughtful questions. The young folks remained weird and silly, and the trucker dude continued to escalate his uncivilized behavior to the point that I nearly asked him to cut it out. I would have if I hadn’t been so afraid that he would have tried to fight me. Anyone who belches vociferously after downing each beer sample like a shot glass and then proclaims loudly “Bleach!!! Now I need a cigarette to get the taste of that shit out of my mouth!” is not someone I anticipate reacting docilely to a request to desist or vacate the premises. As Ken said, he most likely rounded out his evening guzzling Bud Light in his cab and muttering at his cowed girlfriend. I was not sad to see him go, which was sooner rather than later, thankfully. The nice couple stayed afterward for a long time to talk, which also made up for all the preceding discomfort.

In other news, I now have a spiffy new (well, pre-owned, if you must know) kitchen cart sitting next to my stove, courtesy of my friend Liz. No more cardboard boxes on my floor functioning as my inconvenient pantry! And I have extra food prep space, to boot. I am blessed to have such good friends. Barbara’s boyfriend Zack told me on Saturday that he would come over and finish up all the remaining jobs that need to be done around here so I can finally feel truly moved in! I still have uninstalled bathroom fixtures, curtain rods and blinds need to be put up, and two of my kitchen cabinets need shelves made. He’s even going to fix that ridiculous one-inch gap under my front door that lets all the cold air in. What an absolutely swell guy. I already liked him anyway; he’s one of the best huggers I’ve encountered in my entire life. And nothing is better than a good hug. Zack hugs you like he’s trying to break something, and he doesn’t let go until you’re on the verge of suffocation. But I like that.