Just Another Ladies Night Without Tom Clancy
June 6, 2012 § 1 Comment
I was sitting on the beach, repeatedly attempting to create the perfect ratio of Wheat Thin to pimiento cheese and watching my husband read a Tom Clancy book.
And I thought: If Tom Clancy and I were friends, I bet we’d have nicknames. I’d say, “Hey, Clancypants, want some cheese?” And he’d be like, “Lay it on me, Clear and Pleasant Danger.” And we would maybe slap high-fives.
Then I started thinking about some of the other celebrities I’ve nicknamed. Sometimes I imagine social occasions where we all interact with one another.
Here’s a sample gathering. It’s ladies night. Cast of characters:
Other unnamed people milling about
Party is in progress. Small talk about humidity and children and traffic and whether Wicked by Essie is a suitable nail color for summer or if we have to wait until fall to wear it again has already taken place.
Me: … so anyway, that’s why I always say: An icicle is the perfect murder weapon.
Zooey: I was thinking about putting on a few more coats of mascara, then pushing all this furniture out of the way and doing a charming retro song-and-dance number; but Martha’s standing on the coffee table and won’t get off.
Me: No problem, Bangs. I’ll handle it. But you gotta understand, Scone Cold Fox over here loves an audience. Let her finish giving the origami demonstration with the cocktail napkins, and then we’ll ask her to move.
Zooey: [twirling around in her blue dress and pink tights and yellow shoes and green cardigan] OK.
Me: Hey, Scone Cold, come on into the kitchen. I’ll let you carve all the Fritos into tiny pinecones with my cuticle pusher.
Martha: It’s a good thing.
Me: I know.
Zooey starts singing in the living room with the cartoon birds who follow her everywhere. A crowd gathers.
Meanwhile, back in the kitchen:
Me: Hey, Gweeneth*, have you tasted the arugula tartlets? Here, have one.
(*This is not so much a nickname as much as just a purposeful mispronunciation.)
Gwyneth: It’s Gwyneth.
Me: Right, Gweeneth. Aren’t these delish? The greens were hydroponically grown and harvested by butterflies. They’re gluten-free, probiotic, anti-inflammatory and have never been touched by pesticide or dirt or human hands.
Me: That’s your name, Gweenie, don’t wear it out. Anyway, I hear they watered the leaves with organic angel spit, so I’m pretty sure they’re on your diet.
Me: Hello? Clancypants! What’s shakin’? No, I’ve got the girls over. Bangs is in the living room using my remote as a microphone, and the blonde ones are in here being borderline hostile, you know how it is. Lattes and pilates tomorrow? Awesome. ‘k, bye.
Martha: Ta-da! In just 47 easy steps, I turned this Granny Smith apple into a tiny Viking ship.
Me: Oh, Foxy, those were supposed to be for decoration. But speaking of apples… Gween’s daughter goes by Apple. Isn’t that cute? It’s short for Appolonia – she’s named after Prince’s backup dancer and co-star in Purple Rain. That’s what Gwyneth and Chris were watching when Apple was conc—”
Crashing sounds from living room.
To be continued.