In your lifetime, you may be faced with this very difficult question: when looking for a runaway bride, where the hell do you look for her?
Well, in reality, most of you will probably never be faced with this question, but since that was the question I was faced with on my sister's wedding day, I figured maybe some other people out there had been in my shoes before.
In case you didn't get a chance to read my last blog, here's some highlights from the last exchange between myself and Mark, the fiancee of my sister Tara:
"Tara's pregnant."
"Mark, I'm sure this wasn't exactly the news you wanted to hear tonight. But look at it this way: you're gonna be a father and you're gonna spend the next 18 years raising this kid with my sister, aka the love of your life."
"Yeah, if she comes back."
"Wait--what?"
"Michael, she broke the news to me and then stormed off."
"Did you call her?"
"She won't answer her phone."
"Shit. Okay, I have a plan."
"Yeah? What's this plan?"
"Operation Runaway Bride."
"Where are you going?"
"To find my sister."
"I have to go with you."
"You just worry about getting married tomorrow. I'll worry about locating Tara. Tell my parents I'll meet them at the shul tomorrow."
So, as you can tell, this was no ordinary case of Cold Feet. Tara was in utter panic because she was knocked up. I'd say that's a pretty good reason to panic, but I wondered why it was a reason to run off.
After my conversation with Mark, I got into my car and started driving. I guess maybe I felt like getting in the car and driving would make it look like I had a few leads on where to find her, but the truth is that I had no idea where she might've been!
I decided it wouldn't hurt to call her. I knew she wasn't answering Mark's calls, but maybe she'd answer mine.
"Hi, you've reached Tara Maccabbi...soon to be TARA EISENBERG, NEWLYWED!!! I can't answer the phone right now because I'M GETTING MARRIED!!! Leave a message, but I can't guarantee that I can return the call right away. I'M GONNA BE A BRIDE!!!"
Wow. Just wow.
"Tara, it's me. Listen--I know I'm not the best person for life advice, but you're making a terrible mistake right now and I need you to call me."
Now, the question on my mind was where I could find her. It was 10:15 at night, and the wedding ceremony would be in 13 hours and 45 minutes. I thought about where she liked to go, and at that moment, I realized that I was never really one to ask my sister about where she went during the day. All I really knew about her personal life was that she taught Kindergarden at the King Solomon Jewish Elementary School. She always did love working with those small children. Perhaps it's because they were so similar to her.
"There's no way she'd be at her place of work," I thought to myself. "Nobody loves their job that much."
I then tried to think about all the conversations I'd had with her over the past seventeen years of my life. I suddenly remembered that she's always been CRAZY when it came to being in shape. She ran 3 miles every other day and swam to cool down. More recently, her and Mark had gotten a gym membership together and had been going there a couple times a week.
"The gym! She must be at the gym!"
It was approximately 10:35 when I arrived at the Lifelong Health Club. The place was pretty high-class. State-of-the-art machines, an olympic sized swimming pool, jacuzzis, indoor basketball and racketball courts, a rock wall, and locker rooms with showers, a sauna, and a steam room.
I got to the gym and immediately began searching for her. The weightroom was completely empty because of the time of night. I then checked the basketball courts, the swimming pool, and the rock wall. She was nowhere to be found.
I figured because it was nearly 11:00 at night, there wouldn't really be anyone in the womens' locker room, but maybe I could find Tara in there. I opened the door to the lockerroom to see that Tara was not there, but there were three very attractive blondes standing in there, in nothing but their undergarments.
"Um, I know this is gonna sound odd...but have any of you seen my sister? She's got dark curly hair."
"Nope."
"Not at all."
"Is there something we can do to help?"
The third one got really close to me when she said that.
"Well, I don't know. Maybe."
"I can think of lots of ways we can help you."
Suddenly, all three of them were surrounding me. For all you female readers out there taking notes, this is one of the ULTIMATE fantasies of the male gender.
"Oh, I'm sure you can."
As they sat me down on one of the benches in the locker room, I suddenly remembered why I had come to the gym in the first place.
"I'm sorry," I said as I stood up.
"What's wrong?"
"Are we not sexy enough?"
"Oh, you're plenty sexy. It's just not the best time."
"It's always a good time."
"Thank you, really, but I have to be going."
They didn't seem to understand what I was saying because they didn't loosen their grip on me. I wondered if they did this every night, wait in the locker room for some guy to show up so they can pleasure him.
"Like I said, I need to be going. If you'll just excuse me, I'll just--"
"Nobody, and I mean nobody, turns us down."
"You have to understand. My sister, she's getting married tomorrow, and she ran off, and I have to find her, and--"
"Stop talking and remove your pants!"
I didn't remove my pants.
"Do you need some help with that?"
"No, really, I have to go."
"Oh, the thing is that you don't."
"No, the thing is that I really do."
"Maybe he's reluctant because he's a virgin."
"WHOA!"
Now that was the wrong thing for the creepy girls to speculate.
"I am not a virgin."
"Then prove it, stud."
It was then that the most unexpected twist of the evening happened.
"Michael?"
"Melinda! Thank God!"
I had never been happier to see Melinda in the entire time I had known her, which was practically our whole lives.
"Who are these people?"
I then remembered that I was being sexually assaulted by three beautiful strangers.
"You pose an excellent question. Would you mind helping me, please?"
"Back aside, ladies. This one's mine."
"Aw."
"No fair."
"All the good ones are taken."
"Or married."
"I like the married ones. They're mysterious."
"Okay, so, um, goodbye."
Melinda and I left the locker room. I don't know if I can ever say this again, but boy was I glad I didn't get laid by three hot blondes.
"What were you doing in the Womens' locker room?"
"Once again, a very good question."
"Care to answer?"
"I was looking for Tara. She ran off at the rehearsal dinner."
"Does your family know?"
"I have no idea."
"You didn't tell them?"
"Well, I didn't have much time to tell them. I've been too busy wondering where she might be and being seduced by blonde sluts all night!"
Melinda didn't seem to like my yelling.
"I'm sorry. It's just--it's 11:30 at night now. I have to find Tara before the wedding, which is in 12 and a half hours, by the way."
"I understand. Maybe you could use some help."
"Great idea. Do you know any private detectives who specialize in runaway brides?"
"I appreciate the sarcasm, but this isn't the time. I was talking about me. I can help you."
"You'd do that for me?"
"Of course. You know I'm always here to help you out of a jam."
She smiled and put her hand on my shoulder.
"We can't do this without a little sleep. We'll take your car, and one of us can drive while the other sleeps. When we stop to look someplace, the driver wakes the other one up."
"Okay. That sounds like a good system."
"I'll drive first. You look like you need some rest after that traumatizing locker-room experience."
"Yeah, really."
So we got into my car and started searching. We hit a couple bars, restaurants, public parks, and so on. At 3:30 in the morning, we went into a cafe and decided to eat something and drink some coffee.
"So she wasn't at Desert Ridge, she wasn't at Scottsdale 101, she wasn't at Westgate, and she wasn't at Arrowhead."
"So basically, we've gone everywhere except for the former Confederate States of America."
At that point, my apple pie and her peach cobbler arrived at our table.
"This looks great. Do you want a bite?"
"Sure, only if you'll take a bite of my pie."
She fed me a bite of her cobbler with her fork, the romantic way that most girlfriends do--then it got quiet after I swallowed the cobbler.
"Is it good?"
I looked at her.
"The best cobbler I've ever had."
"How's the pie?"
"Try for yourself."
I fed her the way she fed me.
"That is really good pie."
We looked into each others' eyes for a second, until we both got snapped back into the situation we were in.
"Um, so, anyway--you know Tara better than I do."
"You know, Melinda, tonight I'm not so sure. All I could remember about her is that she teaches at King Solomon and that she goes to Lifelong Health Club a few times a week."
"And you checked both those places?"
"I checked the gym."
And then Melinda gave me one of the biggest "You're an idiot" looks I had ever gotten.
"You didn't check her place of work?"
"Um...no?"
"Michael, Michael, Michael."
"Could you say my name just one more time, please?"
"Michael, the place of work is always the first place you look, especially if it's a runaway bride."
I looked at her strangely.
"Come on, you're driving this time."
She left the booth and I paid the check. All I could think was: "How does she know these things?"
When we got back into the car, it was 4:30 in the morning. From the cafe in Gilbert, it took us 45 minutes to get to the King Solomon Jewish Elementary School in Phoenix. At 5:15 AM, we arrived at the school and saw that Tara's car was already there.
"You think the school doors will be open?"
"I'll try."
The doors to the school were locked.
"She must've used her key. Jeez, how do I get in there? She won't answer her phone."
For the next fifteen minutes or so, I contemplated what I should do and how to get in. I thought about climbing on the roof, but I didn't have a ladder. I thought about breaking and entering, but then I'd get arrested. I was almost out of ideas until--
"Michael!"
"Yes?"
"Jump the fence and go through the playground!"
I looked at Melinda, and at the sake of not sounding like an idiot, I said: "Well that was my next idea!"
"I'll wait for you out here."
I looked at her.
"You promise?"
"Of course."
"Okay."
I smiled and jumped the fence. As soon as I was over, I ran through the playground and jumped over another fence to get to where the classrooms were. I sprinted, trying to find her classroom, and then I was there. The door was locked, so I began to bang on it like there was to tomorrow.
It reminded me a lot of that scene in The Graduate, when Ben interrupts Elaine's wedding.
"Elaine! Elaine!"
The door opened.
"Who's Elaine?"
"Uh, sorry. I got into the moment."
Standing in front of me was my knocked up, runaway sister Tara.
She invited me into her classroom.
"How did you find me?"
"The place of work is always the first place you should look."
"That is true...but you're wearing what you wore to the rehearsal dinner."
"Well, before I came here, I was there."
"Where?"
"Everywhere, really. You're making a huge mistake running out on this wedding."
"Did Mark tell you--"
"That you're pregnant. Yeah, he told me."
She put her head down.
"Tara, Mark loves you. He's gonna love this baby too."
"How do you know?"
"Because he's going to spend the rest of his life caring for it with the one person he cares for the most."
My sister looked at me.
"You're sure?"
"I'm positive."
As if on cue, her financee showed up in the doorway to her classroom.
"Tara!"
The two ran to each other and embraced.
"I'm so sorry, Mark. I'll never run away from you again."
"I love you so much, Tara."
"I love you too."
They kissed again.
"Alright, enough of that, you crazy kids. You're getting married today!"
"We are."
"We are."
"So let's all get some sleep!"
We all walked out through the front entrance, where Melinda was waiting for me still, with a smile on her face.
I dropped her off back at the gym, where her car was parked.
"You did it."
"No. We did it."
She kissed me on the cheek before getting out of the car.
"See you at the wedding."
The ceremony was great. My twin brother Darrin and I shared the responsibility of giving Tara away, since our dad conducted the ceremony. I saw Melinda in the crowd, and she smiled at me. It felt really great.
"Do you, Mark, take my daughter, Tara, to be your wife?"
"I do."
"And do you, Tara, take this man, Mark, to be your husband?"
"I do."
"Then with the powers vested in me by the state of Arizona and the Rabinnical Association of America, I now pronounce you husband and wife."
Tara and Mark kissed. They looked truly happy.
My parents had gotten a band for the wedding, and the music was great. I was just missing one thing: a dance partner. I didn't even have to scan the room to decide who I wanted to dance with tonight.
"Hey, Melinda."
"Hey."
"So I was thinking."
"I'm so proud of you for that--just don't hurt yourself."
"Very funny. Anyway, I was hoping that maybe I could ask you for a dance."
She stood up and made direct eye contact with me.
"Just a dance?"
I looked at her.
"I was thinking that maybe it could be the first of many dances."
We got real close and she kissed me.
"That sounds perfect."
We kissed again, this time more passionately. And then--well, then we danced for the rest of the wedding, holding each other and enjoying our time together. As we danced together, I noticed that the newlyweds were dancing right at our side. For the first time in a long time, everything seemed right with the world.
Sincerely,
Mac-Attack
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Saturday, October 17, 2009
A Rehearsal Dinner in the Life of the Mac-Attack
"I ordered yellow roses...NOT RED!!!"
In case you didn't notice, my sister Tara was just a little stressed out about her upcoming nuptials. Her and Mark had started their relationship in June, and I suppose it was love at first sight because they were already about to say "I do". Some may find it odd that they were getting married after being together for such a short amount of time, but it wasn't unheard of in my family. My parents are always so proud to tell the story of how they met in the summer of 1977 and fell in love. They were married by Hannukah, and now they've been married for 33 years. That's a really long time to be with one person, if you ask me.
"Tara, it's okay. It's Wednesday, and the rehearsal dinner isn't until Saturday night. I'll just call the flower shop and have them get us some new ones."
"IT'S THE PRINCIPLE OF IT!!!"
On that note, my sister ran into her room and slammed the door.
"I love you too, honey!"
If anyone could handle my sister's ridiculous antics, it was Mark.
"Just wait til you guys have kids and one of them gets a D on their report card!"
"I wish she'd calm down, Mikey. You're her brother; maybe you can talk to her and get her to settle a bit."
"Mark, I've known my sister for 17 years and she's never calmed down when I've asked her to. You have your work cut out for you, my friend."
"I just love her so much. I want her to be happy."
"Listen, Mark: she is happy. She's just stressed about the wedding. I'm sure you have some thoughts on your mind as well."
"Like what?"
"Come on, every guy gets freaked out about never sleeping with anyone else for the rest of their lives."
"Nah, that doesn't bother me. The sex with Tara is pretty great."
It was awkwardly quiet after my future brother-in-law announced to me that my sister was good in bed.
"Well, I'm gonna go throw up now, and then I have a USY lounge. I'll just see you later."
My twin brother Darrin and I convinced our closeted younger brother JT to come to the USY lounge with us. We promised him he'd make new friends.
"But I don't want new friends."
"JT, it's not that you don't want new friends. It's that you don't want any friends!"
"Yeah. You're gonna be in high school next year, and the two of us won't be around for you to hang around with."
"Like we would anyway," Darrin said under his breath. I tried not to laugh.
We entered the Youth Lounge at TBZ to find a ton of people that were JT's age. JT seemed nervous.
"Go mingle, young JT."
"Yes, mingle while Darrin and I go play with the big kids."
My best friend Ben was sitting on one of the couches. Sitting next to him was Sam, a relatively new member from Las Vegas. A couple weeks ago, she had finally left her cheating boyfriend. She still seemed kinda down about it.
"It's just so strange not to have anyone to say 'I love you' to anymore."
"Yeah. I, uh, know the feeling."
He didn't really know the feeling, but he was trying to make conversation.
"Hey, Mac's here!"
"Hey, guys."
"So, how's the bride-to-be doing?"
"Oh, she's fine. She's just kinda flipping out."
"Well, I'm sure everything will be better once she says those vows."
"At least she'll get to say vows. I'll be alone forever!!!"
On that note, Sam ran off crying.
"What's that all about?"
"You know Steve Schuckman from USY? That's his recent ex-girlfriend."
"Schuckman had a girlfriend?"
"You really should go to more events. Maybe you'd know these things."
Meanwhile, JT was just standing in a corner being anti-social. I noticed this and immediately decided that action should be taken. I thought about JT's personality: he loves Broadway, shopping, and Liza Minelli. Who could possibly share those interests?
"Josh!"
Josh Mauer was our Religion/Education officer on our USY Board. He was a year older than JT, but I figured maybe they'd get along since they shared common ground.
"Hola, Mac."
"Josh, I'd like you to meet my younger brother JT."
JT awkwardly stepped forward. Suddenly, the two were standing eye-to-eye and saying nothing.
"Hey."
Josh finally broke the silence.
"Hey."
They weren't saying much.
"Well, I'll just leave you two kids alone now."
I walked outside to see the most beautiful girl in the world standing in the parking lot.
"Hey, Melinda."
"Hey, Michael."
"I haven't seen you all night."
"I've been out here, just kinda thinking."
"Thinking about what?"
"You know, the usual stuff: sugar, spice, everything nice.
"Sugar, spice, and everything nice?"
"Yup, the ingredients to make the perfect little girl."
"Don't forget Chemical X."
I know, it's lame that we were making a Powerpuff Girls' references.
After laughing for a bit, I got in real close and took Melinda's hands.
"Sugar: The taste of your lips.
Spice: What you add to my life.
Everything nice: the way things seemed when we were together."
Melinda looked at me.
"What are you doing?"
"Last week, when you drove my drunken ass home, you told me that you missed having me in your life romantically. I didn't get to tell you that I feel the same way."
"Michael--"
"We can't keep making excuses, Melinda. Either we get together or we don't. But I'd hate to see the latter happen because the truth of the matter is that I love you, and I know you love me too."
And like all great moments, the two of us were interrupted.
"Hey, Michael, we should probably go now."
Melinda and I awkwardly stood there for a second.
"Just think about it."
"Okay, I will. Goodnight."
Shortly after saying goodbye to Melinda, Josh and JT walked out of the Youth Lounge.
"Well, it was great meeting you."
"Absolutely. So, we're like, set for shopping next week?"
"Positively. Goodnight."
"Night."
Darrin looked at me.
"I think JT has found the love of his life."
The next couple days were crazy. All of our crazy relatives came into town, including my Grandma who I hadn't seen since the summer when I ran away to Malibu.
"I come bearing gifts: JT, I've brought for you the Greatest Hits of The Village People."
"Wow! Thanks, Grandma!!!"
He hugged her and then ran to his room so he could listen to a bunch of gay guys sing about how they'd like to be macho men.
"Darrin, here's some sheet music so you can start composing your brilliance."
"Awesome. Thanks!"
Darrin left, and I was the last to receive my gift.
"I saved the best for last. I knew exactly what it was that you would want."
"And what would that be?"
"Close your eyes, Michael Isaac."
When I opened my eyes, my hands were occupied by a box of condoms and the latest edition of FHM.
"Oh, how I've missed you so. Did I ever tell you that you're the best grandmother around?"
"Yes, but you can say it again."
Not only did our wacky relatives come into town...Mark's parents came into town as well.
"I'm telling you, Bernie, the airplane food gave me food poisoning!"
"Sheila, it wasn't food poisoning. You get motion sickness. It happens!"
Bernie and Sheila Eisenberg seemed like lovely people.
"Mom, Dad, you're here. How was the flight?"
"Marky, you know I won't say anything until you've given your mother a kiss!"
Mark kissed his mother. Soon, my parents came downstairs to greet the parents of their future son-in-law.
"Hello. I am Rabbi Al Maccabbi and this is my wife Shayna. Welcome to our home."
"We are just honored, Rabbi! Marky told us the story of your journey and I hope you know we have great respect for you!"
"Why, thank you. It's always nice to be admired."
Just then, Tara came downstairs.
"Is this our future daughter-in-law?"
"Um...yes?"
Immediately, Mark's parents practically attacked my sister with hugs, kisses, and ridiculous compliments.
"Your eyebrows are so perfectly alligned!"
"I think our Marky has found himself a keeper, Sheila."
"Um, thanks?"
The night of the rehearsal dinner was even more chaotic. All of Tara's Sorority Sisters, Mark's golf buddies, and my parents' friends came to enjoy this special occasion. The dinner was at Temple Beth Zion, naturally, and the food was great. However, the bride and groom seemed a little off.
"Let me pour you some champagne, baby."
"Um, you know me. I'm a bit of a lightweight, and I don't wanna get tipsy the night before our wedding."
"Are you sure everything is alright?"
Just then, Mark's best man Kyle gave his Rehearsak dinner speech.
"Well, this is quite the occasion. My boy Mark is getting married, and it is awesome. Tara is the best thing to ever happen to him, and I know the two of them will have a great life together. I'll have more to say tomorrow, so I think I'll pass this on to the Maid of Honor, Marissa."
Marissa was Tara's best friend since college. I had a major crush on her when I was little.
"Tara's getting married! Woo!!!"
She also really liked to drink at parties, wedding rehearsals included.
After the speeches, Tara continued to look more uncomfortable.
"Tara, are you sure everything is okay?"
Without answering, she got up and walked out. Mark chased after her.
"What do you think is going on?"
"I'm not really sure. Maybe the wedding stress has taken a toll on her."
"Michael, be serious."
"I am."
About ten minutes later, Mark walked back in. He was fighting back tears and was without Tara.
"Michael, I have to talk to you."
"Okay."
We went outside and he spoke.
"Tara's pregnant."
What? I'm sorry, I think I need to type that out again just so I know that I heard him clearly.
"Tara's pregnant."
Okay, now I'm 100% sure that he just told me he knocked up my sister.
"Mazel Tov," I said, not knowing what else to say.
Mark started pacing.
"Mark, I'm sure this wasn't exactly the news you wanted to hear tonight. But look at it this way: you're gonna be a father and you're gonna spend the next 18 years raising this kid with my sister, aka the love of your life."
"Yeah, if she comes back."
"Wait--what?"
"Michael, she broke the news to me and then stormed off."
"Did you call her?"
"She won't answer her phone."
"Shit. Okay, I have a plan."
"Yeah? What's this plan?"
"Operation Runaway Bride."
On that note, I started walking over to my car.
"Where are you going?"
"To find my sister."
"I have to go with you."
"You just worry about getting married tomorrow. I'll worry about locating Tara. Tell my parents I'll meet them at the shul tomorrow."
I got in my car and drove off. I wasn't sure where to look, or even how to find her. All I knew was that I couldn't waste any time.
Sincerely,
Mac-Attack
In case you didn't notice, my sister Tara was just a little stressed out about her upcoming nuptials. Her and Mark had started their relationship in June, and I suppose it was love at first sight because they were already about to say "I do". Some may find it odd that they were getting married after being together for such a short amount of time, but it wasn't unheard of in my family. My parents are always so proud to tell the story of how they met in the summer of 1977 and fell in love. They were married by Hannukah, and now they've been married for 33 years. That's a really long time to be with one person, if you ask me.
"Tara, it's okay. It's Wednesday, and the rehearsal dinner isn't until Saturday night. I'll just call the flower shop and have them get us some new ones."
"IT'S THE PRINCIPLE OF IT!!!"
On that note, my sister ran into her room and slammed the door.
"I love you too, honey!"
If anyone could handle my sister's ridiculous antics, it was Mark.
"Just wait til you guys have kids and one of them gets a D on their report card!"
"I wish she'd calm down, Mikey. You're her brother; maybe you can talk to her and get her to settle a bit."
"Mark, I've known my sister for 17 years and she's never calmed down when I've asked her to. You have your work cut out for you, my friend."
"I just love her so much. I want her to be happy."
"Listen, Mark: she is happy. She's just stressed about the wedding. I'm sure you have some thoughts on your mind as well."
"Like what?"
"Come on, every guy gets freaked out about never sleeping with anyone else for the rest of their lives."
"Nah, that doesn't bother me. The sex with Tara is pretty great."
It was awkwardly quiet after my future brother-in-law announced to me that my sister was good in bed.
"Well, I'm gonna go throw up now, and then I have a USY lounge. I'll just see you later."
My twin brother Darrin and I convinced our closeted younger brother JT to come to the USY lounge with us. We promised him he'd make new friends.
"But I don't want new friends."
"JT, it's not that you don't want new friends. It's that you don't want any friends!"
"Yeah. You're gonna be in high school next year, and the two of us won't be around for you to hang around with."
"Like we would anyway," Darrin said under his breath. I tried not to laugh.
We entered the Youth Lounge at TBZ to find a ton of people that were JT's age. JT seemed nervous.
"Go mingle, young JT."
"Yes, mingle while Darrin and I go play with the big kids."
My best friend Ben was sitting on one of the couches. Sitting next to him was Sam, a relatively new member from Las Vegas. A couple weeks ago, she had finally left her cheating boyfriend. She still seemed kinda down about it.
"It's just so strange not to have anyone to say 'I love you' to anymore."
"Yeah. I, uh, know the feeling."
He didn't really know the feeling, but he was trying to make conversation.
"Hey, Mac's here!"
"Hey, guys."
"So, how's the bride-to-be doing?"
"Oh, she's fine. She's just kinda flipping out."
"Well, I'm sure everything will be better once she says those vows."
"At least she'll get to say vows. I'll be alone forever!!!"
On that note, Sam ran off crying.
"What's that all about?"
"You know Steve Schuckman from USY? That's his recent ex-girlfriend."
"Schuckman had a girlfriend?"
"You really should go to more events. Maybe you'd know these things."
Meanwhile, JT was just standing in a corner being anti-social. I noticed this and immediately decided that action should be taken. I thought about JT's personality: he loves Broadway, shopping, and Liza Minelli. Who could possibly share those interests?
"Josh!"
Josh Mauer was our Religion/Education officer on our USY Board. He was a year older than JT, but I figured maybe they'd get along since they shared common ground.
"Hola, Mac."
"Josh, I'd like you to meet my younger brother JT."
JT awkwardly stepped forward. Suddenly, the two were standing eye-to-eye and saying nothing.
"Hey."
Josh finally broke the silence.
"Hey."
They weren't saying much.
"Well, I'll just leave you two kids alone now."
I walked outside to see the most beautiful girl in the world standing in the parking lot.
"Hey, Melinda."
"Hey, Michael."
"I haven't seen you all night."
"I've been out here, just kinda thinking."
"Thinking about what?"
"You know, the usual stuff: sugar, spice, everything nice.
"Sugar, spice, and everything nice?"
"Yup, the ingredients to make the perfect little girl."
"Don't forget Chemical X."
I know, it's lame that we were making a Powerpuff Girls' references.
After laughing for a bit, I got in real close and took Melinda's hands.
"Sugar: The taste of your lips.
Spice: What you add to my life.
Everything nice: the way things seemed when we were together."
Melinda looked at me.
"What are you doing?"
"Last week, when you drove my drunken ass home, you told me that you missed having me in your life romantically. I didn't get to tell you that I feel the same way."
"Michael--"
"We can't keep making excuses, Melinda. Either we get together or we don't. But I'd hate to see the latter happen because the truth of the matter is that I love you, and I know you love me too."
And like all great moments, the two of us were interrupted.
"Hey, Michael, we should probably go now."
Melinda and I awkwardly stood there for a second.
"Just think about it."
"Okay, I will. Goodnight."
Shortly after saying goodbye to Melinda, Josh and JT walked out of the Youth Lounge.
"Well, it was great meeting you."
"Absolutely. So, we're like, set for shopping next week?"
"Positively. Goodnight."
"Night."
Darrin looked at me.
"I think JT has found the love of his life."
The next couple days were crazy. All of our crazy relatives came into town, including my Grandma who I hadn't seen since the summer when I ran away to Malibu.
"I come bearing gifts: JT, I've brought for you the Greatest Hits of The Village People."
"Wow! Thanks, Grandma!!!"
He hugged her and then ran to his room so he could listen to a bunch of gay guys sing about how they'd like to be macho men.
"Darrin, here's some sheet music so you can start composing your brilliance."
"Awesome. Thanks!"
Darrin left, and I was the last to receive my gift.
"I saved the best for last. I knew exactly what it was that you would want."
"And what would that be?"
"Close your eyes, Michael Isaac."
When I opened my eyes, my hands were occupied by a box of condoms and the latest edition of FHM.
"Oh, how I've missed you so. Did I ever tell you that you're the best grandmother around?"
"Yes, but you can say it again."
Not only did our wacky relatives come into town...Mark's parents came into town as well.
"I'm telling you, Bernie, the airplane food gave me food poisoning!"
"Sheila, it wasn't food poisoning. You get motion sickness. It happens!"
Bernie and Sheila Eisenberg seemed like lovely people.
"Mom, Dad, you're here. How was the flight?"
"Marky, you know I won't say anything until you've given your mother a kiss!"
Mark kissed his mother. Soon, my parents came downstairs to greet the parents of their future son-in-law.
"Hello. I am Rabbi Al Maccabbi and this is my wife Shayna. Welcome to our home."
"We are just honored, Rabbi! Marky told us the story of your journey and I hope you know we have great respect for you!"
"Why, thank you. It's always nice to be admired."
Just then, Tara came downstairs.
"Is this our future daughter-in-law?"
"Um...yes?"
Immediately, Mark's parents practically attacked my sister with hugs, kisses, and ridiculous compliments.
"Your eyebrows are so perfectly alligned!"
"I think our Marky has found himself a keeper, Sheila."
"Um, thanks?"
The night of the rehearsal dinner was even more chaotic. All of Tara's Sorority Sisters, Mark's golf buddies, and my parents' friends came to enjoy this special occasion. The dinner was at Temple Beth Zion, naturally, and the food was great. However, the bride and groom seemed a little off.
"Let me pour you some champagne, baby."
"Um, you know me. I'm a bit of a lightweight, and I don't wanna get tipsy the night before our wedding."
"Are you sure everything is alright?"
Just then, Mark's best man Kyle gave his Rehearsak dinner speech.
"Well, this is quite the occasion. My boy Mark is getting married, and it is awesome. Tara is the best thing to ever happen to him, and I know the two of them will have a great life together. I'll have more to say tomorrow, so I think I'll pass this on to the Maid of Honor, Marissa."
Marissa was Tara's best friend since college. I had a major crush on her when I was little.
"Tara's getting married! Woo!!!"
She also really liked to drink at parties, wedding rehearsals included.
After the speeches, Tara continued to look more uncomfortable.
"Tara, are you sure everything is okay?"
Without answering, she got up and walked out. Mark chased after her.
"What do you think is going on?"
"I'm not really sure. Maybe the wedding stress has taken a toll on her."
"Michael, be serious."
"I am."
About ten minutes later, Mark walked back in. He was fighting back tears and was without Tara.
"Michael, I have to talk to you."
"Okay."
We went outside and he spoke.
"Tara's pregnant."
What? I'm sorry, I think I need to type that out again just so I know that I heard him clearly.
"Tara's pregnant."
Okay, now I'm 100% sure that he just told me he knocked up my sister.
"Mazel Tov," I said, not knowing what else to say.
Mark started pacing.
"Mark, I'm sure this wasn't exactly the news you wanted to hear tonight. But look at it this way: you're gonna be a father and you're gonna spend the next 18 years raising this kid with my sister, aka the love of your life."
"Yeah, if she comes back."
"Wait--what?"
"Michael, she broke the news to me and then stormed off."
"Did you call her?"
"She won't answer her phone."
"Shit. Okay, I have a plan."
"Yeah? What's this plan?"
"Operation Runaway Bride."
On that note, I started walking over to my car.
"Where are you going?"
"To find my sister."
"I have to go with you."
"You just worry about getting married tomorrow. I'll worry about locating Tara. Tell my parents I'll meet them at the shul tomorrow."
I got in my car and drove off. I wasn't sure where to look, or even how to find her. All I knew was that I couldn't waste any time.
Sincerely,
Mac-Attack
Sunday, October 11, 2009
A Hangover in the Life of the Mac-Attack
"Ahh, my head!"
I woke up with a splitting headache. I needed Tylonell, and I needed it fast.
"I guess that's what you get for having those shots last night."
I didn't exactly know what my brother Darrin was talking about. I didn't remember having any shots the night before. Come to think of it, I didn't remember much about last night at all.
"Shots?"
"Do the words 'Disaronno Originale' come to mind?"
"I had ameretto last night?"
"Six quick shots of it. One by one by one."
"Oh, geez."
The pain in my head hadn't stopped, and I was having a hard time walking.
"You really got into that Simachat Torah spirit, didn't you?"
"That's right, it was Simchat Torah last night--oh, shit, Mom and Dad were there!"
"Yes. Yes they were."
"And Tara and JT."
"Yup."
"And the whole congregation of Temple Beth Zion!"
"And boy were Mom and Dad proud of ya!"
I may have been hung over, but I could sense the sarcasm in my brother's voice.
"I need water, like now."
"I'll bet you do."
After taking some Tylonell and drinking some water, the rest of my family came downstairs. My younger brother JT, my sister Tara, and my mom and dad.
"Hey, the alcoholic is awake before we are!"
"Shut up, Closet-Case."
"Michael Isaac Maccabbi, don't talk to your younger brother like that. He's not the one who was plastered last night."
"Now, Al, don't be so overdramatic about it. I guarantee that Rabbi Frazen's sons are still passed out on the floor of the Chabbad of Greater Phoenix and Scottsdale."
"Yeah, and you have to admit it was hilarious when he serenaded Mrs. Goldsmith."
"I serenaded Mrs. Goldsmith?"
"You asked her to marry you."
"Oh, God."
Just then, Tara's financee Mark graced us with his presence.
"Mikey! How's Mrs. Goldsmith doing?"
"She's in the Honeymoon Suite. Wanna ask her yourself?!"
By now I was really annoyed. Suddenly, I started remembering things.
"It's kinda coming back to me now. Services started at 7; I started drinking around 8:30 or so."
"Michael, that's when you did all your drinking. There was only about two seconds between each shot."
"Ben was with me. I'm guessing he drove me home."
"Nope. He left after you proposed to Mrs. Goldsmith."
"Then did you take me home?"
"You wouldn't let me."
I thought really hard. It all seemed to be coming back to me...but I still didn't remember who drove me home.
The events leading up to services were as clear as my windshield after getting my car washed. I hadn't been to synagogue since Yom Kippur, two weeks before.
"Mac, you have to go. You're the President of USY, and you've missed the last two lounges!"
"I've been busy. You know that, Ben."
"Mac, you haven't been busy. You've just been avoiding Melinda."
"I have not."
"Have so."
"Ben, I got my closure on that situation on Yom Kippur. I'm okay with the fact that her and I will never be together. In fact, I've been talking to a couple different girls, thinking about starting something up."
"So, why not take one of these girls to Simchat Torah tonight?"
"None of them are Jewish."
"Well, if you're really over Melinda, you can come to Simchat Torah services tonight and sit with us...along with all the other people who made you our USY President!"
Ben looked at me.
"Don't make me beg."
The next thing I knew, Ben was on his knees.
"Please, oh please, come to services tonight! Please please please please please!!!"
"Okay, okay. I'll go--but on one condition."
"Alright."
"Never get on your knees in front of me again, unless you happen to turn into Taylor Swift overnight."
"Deal."
The next thing I remembered about that night was arriving to services. By the time I got there, the synagogue was packed. I took a seat in the USY section next to Ben. I immediately saw that Melinda was sitting right behind me.
"It's good to see you, Michael."
"You too."
It was a little awkward, from what I remember. Actually, it was very awkward. After a few prayers, my dad (aka the Rabbi) began calling for volunteers to dance with the Torahs. As the people began dancing with the torahs, the congregation began dancing around the Torahs.
"Come on, Mac. Let's go dance around the Torahs!"
"What?"
"Yeah, it'll be fun."
"I don't know."
"Well, while you contemplate over this important life decision, I'll be dancing. Maybe you can join me."
Melinda ran off to dance the Horah around the Torah (yes, I know that rhymes. That's why I added that line in)
"She always does this!"
"Dances the Horah around the Torah? I actually think most people do that only once a year."
"You know what I mean, Ben. She seems to think that everything can just be fine and dandy and that it doesn't have to be awkward!"
"Mac, it doesn't have to be awkward. You're only making it awkward."
It was at that moment that I noticed people gathering around a table of liquor bottles.
"Maybe you're right, Ben. But I know how to make it less awkward now."
I motioned over to the table.
"Oh no, Mac. You drove here tonight."
"So I'll leave my car here. I'll be back to get it on Monday."
"You know you're not a big drinker. There's a reason for that."
"Do you want me to have fun tonight or don't you? Rabbi Frazen's kids are probably so trashed that they're peeing on their own tallis bags!"
"But that's at the Chabbad of Greater Phoenix and Scottsdale. This is one of two times of the year that they can get drunk."
"I'm not gonna get drunk, Ben. I'm just gonna have a little something to get me loose."
"Okay, fine. We'll do a shot."
I could clearly remember walking over to the table. We looked through all the liquor: Jack Daniel's Whiskey, Grey Goose Vodka, Southern Comfort, and Disaronno Originale Amaretto.
"I believe that the sweet alomond drink will be the liquor of choice this evening."
"I don't know, Mac. Have you ever even had amaretto?"
"I hear it's really sweet."
"Well, okay. One shot won't hurt."
We each poured a shot and drank. It did taste sweet, but my throat was pretty hot afterwards.
"Well, like I said, one shot."
As he said this, I poured my second shot and I drank it.
"Mac, I said one shot. Do you want your parents to kill you?"
And while he said this, I poured and drank shots three, four and five.
"Come on, Ben! It's a party!"
On that note, I poured and drank shot six. I then stepped away from the table, stumbling a little bit.
"Okay, Mac. I think you've had enough."
"Nah, I feel fine!"
I then stumbled and tripped. Ben caught me.
"I think you should eat something."
"I'm not hungry...for food, that is."
It was then that the now infamous Mrs. Goldsmith walked by.
"Mac--"
"Does Mrs. Goldsmith always look this good?"
"I'd assume not, Mac. She's sixty-three years old!"
"Look at the way she dances, though!"
In reality, Mrs. Goldsmith wasn't that light on her feet, but I was now drunk enough to believe she could be a dancer on Broadway.
"I must tell her how I feel."
"Dizzy, queasy, as if the world is spinning?!"
"I have to tell her I'm in love with her!"
"Mac!"
But it was too late for my best friend to stop me. I was going to tell the sagging old lady about my passion for her.
"Mrs. Goldsmith! Mrs. Goldsmith!"
"Well, hello, Michael."
"Hi, Mrs. Goldsmith."
I'm sure Ben was slapping himself on the forehead.
"Mrs. Goldsmith, you look beautiful tonight."
"Why thank you, Michael. You know, I have a granddaughter who would just love you. She lives in Rhode Island."
"Well, I'm sure she's--I'm sure she's lovely. But why have a--a burger when you can have a steak?"
It was then that Darrin came over to me.
"Mrs. Goldsmith, have you lost weight?"
"Back off, Bucko! She's mine!"
"Michael, what have you been drinking?"
"All I've--all I've been drinking is the--the beauty of Mrs. Goldsmith's figure."
"Wow. Just wow."
"Well, while I'm enjoying all of your lovely compliments, Michael, I really must be going now."
As she walked away, I attempted to run after her--but I fell at her feet. Once again, I'm sure Ben was slapping his forehead, and I knew Darrin must have been too.
"Don't go, Mrs. Goldsmith. I thought we had something special."
"Michael, I haven't the slightest idea what you are talking about."
"I love you, Mrs. Goldsmith. I wanna spend--wanna spend the rest of my life with you!"
"Michael, I am flattered, but I really must be going now."
Just like that, she was gone.
"NOOOOOO!!!! The love of my life is gone!!!!!"
Ben looked at me.
"So, um, I'm gonna go home and barf now. I'll see you later."
Suddenly, my dad and Darrin came over to me and picked me up off the ground.
"Michael, you need to sober up. You need to sober up fast. You are embarassing yourself--and worse, you're embarassing me--in front of the entire congregation! Do you understand the consequences of your actions?!"
I attempted to say something back, but instead, I threw up all over the floor.
"Great. This is just PERFECT!"
My father walked away from me angrily. Darrin was still with me.
"Darrin, come close."
"I'd rather not."
"You, my brother, are a very, very good person. I don't--I don't care what anyone else thinks of you. Are you--are you listening to me? Are you listening to me, Darrin?"
The more I think about it, the more it seems Darrin was trying to hold back his laughter. I'm not sure if it was the situation that he found funny or if it was the fact that I had fucked up.
"You are such a dumb-ass, Michael. Get your head on straight and stop making an ass out of yourself in front of all these people."
"You know what, Darrin? Fuck you; you're the dumb-ass!"
"Didn't you just say that I'm a very, very good person?"
"Well, I--I take it back!"
"You're drunk. I'm taking you home."
"Oh no. I'm not--I'm not going anywhere--anywhere with you."
"Well, you're not driving yourself and I don't think you have too many other options. Mom and Dad are too pissed at you to drive you home."
Just then, I did probably the dumbest thing I could have done on that drunken night.
"Melinda!"
Melinda walked over to me and Darrin.
"Don't take too much of what he says seriously. He's plastered."
"What did he drink?"
"Six shots of ameretto, hardly taking a breath between each shot."
"You know, I'm--I'm standing right here."
"I'd hardly call that standing."
He did have a point. At this stage of the evening, I was using Darrin's shoulder to keep from falling.
"Melinda, Melinda, Melinda. You great, beautiful, girl who is a friend and nothing more."
"Michael--"
"I think we should--I think we should talk."
"Here? Now?"
"Not here. Not now."
"Then where and when?"
"I think he wants you to drive him home, Melinda. He won't let me."
"I suppose I could."
"Great, now we're all on the same page!"
I stood up on my own and then fell down immediately. That's the last thing I remembered about that night.
"So Melinda was the one who drove me home?"
"Yeah."
"Did I do or say anything stupid?"
"How should any of us know? We aren't Melinda."
"I probably did, right?"
"There's only one way to find out."
I was still too hung over to understand what Mark was implying I should do.
"Um, call her."
"Oh. Right. Yeah, I should do that."
I picked up my phone and dialed her number: 602 555 2643.
"Hey."
"Hey."
"Melinda, about last night. I was really drunk. I don't remember if I said anything stupid, but--"
"You didn't. Everything is fine."
"Okay. That's good."
"How are you feeling?"
"Like shit."
She laughed.
"So I'll see you later then."
"Yup. Thanks for calling. Bye."
"Bye."
We hung up.
An hour or two later, when I was feeling better, I began to remember bits and peices about the car ride with Melinda.
"You know, it's--it's nice of you to drive me. You didn't have to--have to do that."
"What did you want to talk about?"
"Well, there's always something to talk about."
"Anything specific?"
"Life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness."
"Okay, since you said that, it's clear to me that you are wasted and that you probably won't remember any of this."
"Probably not."
"So I'll say it. Life: my life is sucking right now because you're not in it the way that I'd like you to be in it. Liberty: I thought that being single and unattached would be liberating, and I was afraid to be so closely involved with someone, even if it was you. That's why I treated you so badly. Happiness: I'm not happy right now. Are you?"
I now recall looking at her and suddenly sobering up for the few seconds that it took for me to say what I was about to say.
"No, Melinda. I'm not."
I do believe that it was at this point where she arrived to my house and I got out of the car, saying only "Thanks for the ride" and "Have a nice night".
On Simchat Torah this year, I did and said a lot of stupid things. But admitting to Melinda that I wasn't happy without her was the one thing I did that wasn't stupid.
She had told me how she felt because she knew I was wasted and that I would most likely not remember it. Well, she was right about the first part. But now that I did remember it, I wondered what my next move should be.
How is it that a drunk guy can know exactly what he wants in the exact moment he wants it, while a sober man can do no such thing? I guess it's just one of those things that my sober self will never understand.
Sincerely,
Mac-Attack
I woke up with a splitting headache. I needed Tylonell, and I needed it fast.
"I guess that's what you get for having those shots last night."
I didn't exactly know what my brother Darrin was talking about. I didn't remember having any shots the night before. Come to think of it, I didn't remember much about last night at all.
"Shots?"
"Do the words 'Disaronno Originale' come to mind?"
"I had ameretto last night?"
"Six quick shots of it. One by one by one."
"Oh, geez."
The pain in my head hadn't stopped, and I was having a hard time walking.
"You really got into that Simachat Torah spirit, didn't you?"
"That's right, it was Simchat Torah last night--oh, shit, Mom and Dad were there!"
"Yes. Yes they were."
"And Tara and JT."
"Yup."
"And the whole congregation of Temple Beth Zion!"
"And boy were Mom and Dad proud of ya!"
I may have been hung over, but I could sense the sarcasm in my brother's voice.
"I need water, like now."
"I'll bet you do."
After taking some Tylonell and drinking some water, the rest of my family came downstairs. My younger brother JT, my sister Tara, and my mom and dad.
"Hey, the alcoholic is awake before we are!"
"Shut up, Closet-Case."
"Michael Isaac Maccabbi, don't talk to your younger brother like that. He's not the one who was plastered last night."
"Now, Al, don't be so overdramatic about it. I guarantee that Rabbi Frazen's sons are still passed out on the floor of the Chabbad of Greater Phoenix and Scottsdale."
"Yeah, and you have to admit it was hilarious when he serenaded Mrs. Goldsmith."
"I serenaded Mrs. Goldsmith?"
"You asked her to marry you."
"Oh, God."
Just then, Tara's financee Mark graced us with his presence.
"Mikey! How's Mrs. Goldsmith doing?"
"She's in the Honeymoon Suite. Wanna ask her yourself?!"
By now I was really annoyed. Suddenly, I started remembering things.
"It's kinda coming back to me now. Services started at 7; I started drinking around 8:30 or so."
"Michael, that's when you did all your drinking. There was only about two seconds between each shot."
"Ben was with me. I'm guessing he drove me home."
"Nope. He left after you proposed to Mrs. Goldsmith."
"Then did you take me home?"
"You wouldn't let me."
I thought really hard. It all seemed to be coming back to me...but I still didn't remember who drove me home.
The events leading up to services were as clear as my windshield after getting my car washed. I hadn't been to synagogue since Yom Kippur, two weeks before.
"Mac, you have to go. You're the President of USY, and you've missed the last two lounges!"
"I've been busy. You know that, Ben."
"Mac, you haven't been busy. You've just been avoiding Melinda."
"I have not."
"Have so."
"Ben, I got my closure on that situation on Yom Kippur. I'm okay with the fact that her and I will never be together. In fact, I've been talking to a couple different girls, thinking about starting something up."
"So, why not take one of these girls to Simchat Torah tonight?"
"None of them are Jewish."
"Well, if you're really over Melinda, you can come to Simchat Torah services tonight and sit with us...along with all the other people who made you our USY President!"
Ben looked at me.
"Don't make me beg."
The next thing I knew, Ben was on his knees.
"Please, oh please, come to services tonight! Please please please please please!!!"
"Okay, okay. I'll go--but on one condition."
"Alright."
"Never get on your knees in front of me again, unless you happen to turn into Taylor Swift overnight."
"Deal."
The next thing I remembered about that night was arriving to services. By the time I got there, the synagogue was packed. I took a seat in the USY section next to Ben. I immediately saw that Melinda was sitting right behind me.
"It's good to see you, Michael."
"You too."
It was a little awkward, from what I remember. Actually, it was very awkward. After a few prayers, my dad (aka the Rabbi) began calling for volunteers to dance with the Torahs. As the people began dancing with the torahs, the congregation began dancing around the Torahs.
"Come on, Mac. Let's go dance around the Torahs!"
"What?"
"Yeah, it'll be fun."
"I don't know."
"Well, while you contemplate over this important life decision, I'll be dancing. Maybe you can join me."
Melinda ran off to dance the Horah around the Torah (yes, I know that rhymes. That's why I added that line in)
"She always does this!"
"Dances the Horah around the Torah? I actually think most people do that only once a year."
"You know what I mean, Ben. She seems to think that everything can just be fine and dandy and that it doesn't have to be awkward!"
"Mac, it doesn't have to be awkward. You're only making it awkward."
It was at that moment that I noticed people gathering around a table of liquor bottles.
"Maybe you're right, Ben. But I know how to make it less awkward now."
I motioned over to the table.
"Oh no, Mac. You drove here tonight."
"So I'll leave my car here. I'll be back to get it on Monday."
"You know you're not a big drinker. There's a reason for that."
"Do you want me to have fun tonight or don't you? Rabbi Frazen's kids are probably so trashed that they're peeing on their own tallis bags!"
"But that's at the Chabbad of Greater Phoenix and Scottsdale. This is one of two times of the year that they can get drunk."
"I'm not gonna get drunk, Ben. I'm just gonna have a little something to get me loose."
"Okay, fine. We'll do a shot."
I could clearly remember walking over to the table. We looked through all the liquor: Jack Daniel's Whiskey, Grey Goose Vodka, Southern Comfort, and Disaronno Originale Amaretto.
"I believe that the sweet alomond drink will be the liquor of choice this evening."
"I don't know, Mac. Have you ever even had amaretto?"
"I hear it's really sweet."
"Well, okay. One shot won't hurt."
We each poured a shot and drank. It did taste sweet, but my throat was pretty hot afterwards.
"Well, like I said, one shot."
As he said this, I poured my second shot and I drank it.
"Mac, I said one shot. Do you want your parents to kill you?"
And while he said this, I poured and drank shots three, four and five.
"Come on, Ben! It's a party!"
On that note, I poured and drank shot six. I then stepped away from the table, stumbling a little bit.
"Okay, Mac. I think you've had enough."
"Nah, I feel fine!"
I then stumbled and tripped. Ben caught me.
"I think you should eat something."
"I'm not hungry...for food, that is."
It was then that the now infamous Mrs. Goldsmith walked by.
"Mac--"
"Does Mrs. Goldsmith always look this good?"
"I'd assume not, Mac. She's sixty-three years old!"
"Look at the way she dances, though!"
In reality, Mrs. Goldsmith wasn't that light on her feet, but I was now drunk enough to believe she could be a dancer on Broadway.
"I must tell her how I feel."
"Dizzy, queasy, as if the world is spinning?!"
"I have to tell her I'm in love with her!"
"Mac!"
But it was too late for my best friend to stop me. I was going to tell the sagging old lady about my passion for her.
"Mrs. Goldsmith! Mrs. Goldsmith!"
"Well, hello, Michael."
"Hi, Mrs. Goldsmith."
I'm sure Ben was slapping himself on the forehead.
"Mrs. Goldsmith, you look beautiful tonight."
"Why thank you, Michael. You know, I have a granddaughter who would just love you. She lives in Rhode Island."
"Well, I'm sure she's--I'm sure she's lovely. But why have a--a burger when you can have a steak?"
It was then that Darrin came over to me.
"Mrs. Goldsmith, have you lost weight?"
"Back off, Bucko! She's mine!"
"Michael, what have you been drinking?"
"All I've--all I've been drinking is the--the beauty of Mrs. Goldsmith's figure."
"Wow. Just wow."
"Well, while I'm enjoying all of your lovely compliments, Michael, I really must be going now."
As she walked away, I attempted to run after her--but I fell at her feet. Once again, I'm sure Ben was slapping his forehead, and I knew Darrin must have been too.
"Don't go, Mrs. Goldsmith. I thought we had something special."
"Michael, I haven't the slightest idea what you are talking about."
"I love you, Mrs. Goldsmith. I wanna spend--wanna spend the rest of my life with you!"
"Michael, I am flattered, but I really must be going now."
Just like that, she was gone.
"NOOOOOO!!!! The love of my life is gone!!!!!"
Ben looked at me.
"So, um, I'm gonna go home and barf now. I'll see you later."
Suddenly, my dad and Darrin came over to me and picked me up off the ground.
"Michael, you need to sober up. You need to sober up fast. You are embarassing yourself--and worse, you're embarassing me--in front of the entire congregation! Do you understand the consequences of your actions?!"
I attempted to say something back, but instead, I threw up all over the floor.
"Great. This is just PERFECT!"
My father walked away from me angrily. Darrin was still with me.
"Darrin, come close."
"I'd rather not."
"You, my brother, are a very, very good person. I don't--I don't care what anyone else thinks of you. Are you--are you listening to me? Are you listening to me, Darrin?"
The more I think about it, the more it seems Darrin was trying to hold back his laughter. I'm not sure if it was the situation that he found funny or if it was the fact that I had fucked up.
"You are such a dumb-ass, Michael. Get your head on straight and stop making an ass out of yourself in front of all these people."
"You know what, Darrin? Fuck you; you're the dumb-ass!"
"Didn't you just say that I'm a very, very good person?"
"Well, I--I take it back!"
"You're drunk. I'm taking you home."
"Oh no. I'm not--I'm not going anywhere--anywhere with you."
"Well, you're not driving yourself and I don't think you have too many other options. Mom and Dad are too pissed at you to drive you home."
Just then, I did probably the dumbest thing I could have done on that drunken night.
"Melinda!"
Melinda walked over to me and Darrin.
"Don't take too much of what he says seriously. He's plastered."
"What did he drink?"
"Six shots of ameretto, hardly taking a breath between each shot."
"You know, I'm--I'm standing right here."
"I'd hardly call that standing."
He did have a point. At this stage of the evening, I was using Darrin's shoulder to keep from falling.
"Melinda, Melinda, Melinda. You great, beautiful, girl who is a friend and nothing more."
"Michael--"
"I think we should--I think we should talk."
"Here? Now?"
"Not here. Not now."
"Then where and when?"
"I think he wants you to drive him home, Melinda. He won't let me."
"I suppose I could."
"Great, now we're all on the same page!"
I stood up on my own and then fell down immediately. That's the last thing I remembered about that night.
"So Melinda was the one who drove me home?"
"Yeah."
"Did I do or say anything stupid?"
"How should any of us know? We aren't Melinda."
"I probably did, right?"
"There's only one way to find out."
I was still too hung over to understand what Mark was implying I should do.
"Um, call her."
"Oh. Right. Yeah, I should do that."
I picked up my phone and dialed her number: 602 555 2643.
"Hey."
"Hey."
"Melinda, about last night. I was really drunk. I don't remember if I said anything stupid, but--"
"You didn't. Everything is fine."
"Okay. That's good."
"How are you feeling?"
"Like shit."
She laughed.
"So I'll see you later then."
"Yup. Thanks for calling. Bye."
"Bye."
We hung up.
An hour or two later, when I was feeling better, I began to remember bits and peices about the car ride with Melinda.
"You know, it's--it's nice of you to drive me. You didn't have to--have to do that."
"What did you want to talk about?"
"Well, there's always something to talk about."
"Anything specific?"
"Life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness."
"Okay, since you said that, it's clear to me that you are wasted and that you probably won't remember any of this."
"Probably not."
"So I'll say it. Life: my life is sucking right now because you're not in it the way that I'd like you to be in it. Liberty: I thought that being single and unattached would be liberating, and I was afraid to be so closely involved with someone, even if it was you. That's why I treated you so badly. Happiness: I'm not happy right now. Are you?"
I now recall looking at her and suddenly sobering up for the few seconds that it took for me to say what I was about to say.
"No, Melinda. I'm not."
I do believe that it was at this point where she arrived to my house and I got out of the car, saying only "Thanks for the ride" and "Have a nice night".
On Simchat Torah this year, I did and said a lot of stupid things. But admitting to Melinda that I wasn't happy without her was the one thing I did that wasn't stupid.
She had told me how she felt because she knew I was wasted and that I would most likely not remember it. Well, she was right about the first part. But now that I did remember it, I wondered what my next move should be.
How is it that a drunk guy can know exactly what he wants in the exact moment he wants it, while a sober man can do no such thing? I guess it's just one of those things that my sober self will never understand.
Sincerely,
Mac-Attack
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