Seasonal Felicitations

24 12 2008

Last week, the four of us guys drove over to Brea to look at a neighborhood that was supposed to have one of the most extensive and incredible Christmas light displays in the area.  Thankfully, we weren’t disappointed.  While Cory was hacking up something or other from his Black Lung, the rest of us perused a well-to-do community that had clearly imposed its penchant for Christmas Spirit upon the entire area by sheer willpower.  I won’t waste your time (too late, though, really.  I mean, you’re here…) by describing the things we saw, or the oaths that were muttered every time I hit an intersection and asked which way to turn.  I will, however, give you a taste of one of the more unique experiences I have had lately.

Towards the beginning of the jaunt, we passed a house with a driveway full of chairs under a little tarp/tent.  In the middle of the chairs was a firepit, blazing happily.  After noting the light rain, we were sorely tempted to exit the car so as to then experience the sensation of warmth by proximity.  However, a majority of votes was not initially recorded, so we drove on.  As gas began to run low and the evening went on, however, we eventually found ourselves passing the same house.  This time, Thatcher’s appeal to compliment the owners of said house on their generosity was received by a sufficient amount of people, so I parked, and out the three of us went.

We approached the house in what was only a marginal downpour, and slowed our pace as we reached the edge of the driveway.  Ahead, in the shelter of the garage, an older lady dressed in red was apparently cleaning up.  “Quite a setup you’ve got here,” I offered.  The tone of her reply was cordial and friendly: “Well, the rain hurt our turnout a bit.”  As we began to offer our condolences for the literal and figurative dampening of her party, she then went on to say one of the most beautiful sentences I have ever heard:

“Would you like some sandwiches?”

Twenty minutes, six Subway sandwiches, three beverages, an indistinct amount of chips and three heaping slices of chocolate cake later, we were sent on our way by a group of would-be partygoers who told us “how cute” we were, all huddled around the fire, almost incredulous at our good fortune.  Apparently, enjoying the hospitality of proffered foods is as adorable as it gets for 23-year-old guys.

Although Cory did miss out on most of the experience due to his aforementioned ailment, we did pass along some of our host’s benevolence in the form of a slice of cake and two more sandwiches.  After all, isn’t that what Christmas is really all about?

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One response

25 12 2008
testostercone

Nothing says Christmas like a $5 footlong.

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