A friend of mine had to go to a relative’s Bar Mitzvah not too long ago. Not wanting to go alone, he asked if I’d like to come, adding that there would be free food and corny music from the eighties. Both of our parents are from small, former soviet countries, and so I sympathized with him having to go to a family gathering. I went on the condition that he’d come with me to my next gathering.
As soon as we stepped into the building, we were pulled into his grandfather’s group. An hour of being told why we boys should be grateful we live in America later and it’s time everybody be seated at their tables. Ours was the one closest to the bar, but even with that there was vodka and cognac at each table. We looked at each other knowingly.
It’s just him, me, and one couple seated at the table. The man was wearing a black suit that revealed a little too much chest hair. Despite us being indoors at 8 PM, he decided to keep his sun glasses on. He was also balding, but had a long pony tail in the back. His wife was very quiet and did a lot for him, including bringing his food from the buffet and telling him when it was time to stop drinking. He didn’t listen to her but it’s the effort that counts. After his wife and my friend stepped onto the dance floor, he leaned across the table to initiate conversation. He’s sauced at this point.
Him: Yo.
Necro: Hey, what’s up?
Him: You a friend of his?
Necro: Yeah, have been for a while.
Him: Cool…he’s a real good kid.
Necro: Yep…certainly is.
Him: What’s your name?
Necro: (I tell him)
Him: That’s a good name, I like it a lot.
Necro: Thanks, what’s yours?
Him: (He tells me)
Necro: Nice to meet you.
He then smiles at me for God knows how long, and I eventually get up to go outside. My friend follows and we stand with another group that’s already smoking. Some minutes go by and he wants to get some more food; I decide I’ve had enough, and tell him to go without me. On my way back, I see the same guy smoking with his wife by the door. He looks up and smiles.
Him: You don’t smoke, do you?
Necro: Only on special occasions.
Him: You shouldn’t…looking me up and down…it’s bad for your body.
I don’t know if I said, “Holy shit” or just thought it, but something was said that ended the conversation pretty quickly. My friend and I did the eat, dance, smoke thing one more time, and on my last trip inside I see the guy and his wife leaving the party.
I try to avoid them, but he makes his way through a group of people to meet me. He says he’s leaving and leans in for a hug. I pat him on the shoulder thinking this would be the worst of it. But I was wrong. He then grabs me by the crotch and says, “I like you a lot…you should come over to my house”. After nearly falling over, his wife grabs him by the arm and drags him out the door. Being shocked more than anything, I stood there for a few minutes not knowing what to do.
The evening died down and the Bar Mitzvah boy’s parents were going around each table to make sure everyone had a good time. Each table had one or two families. They got around to ours and I asked them who that guy and his wife were…because they were such nice people (I wasn’t about to tell them what happened). They asked my friend, and he didn’t know. They asked their parents, and they didn’t know. Their parents asked their respective sides of the family, and they didn’t know. No one knew who he or his wife was. A stranger had apparently snuck into the Bar Mitzvah with his wife, helped himself to the food and vodka, grabbed me by the balls, and left. I think I’ve read that chapter before in Steal This Book, but I’ll have to double check.
All was not in vain though; my friend said he had a good time. However, in the spirit of fairness, I’m going to arrange for one of my uncles to molest him at our next barbeque.
. I then tried to move my arm and just my shoulder moved. It was really weird just seeing my arm lay there and refuse to move. But it was even more weird to see the end of the broken bones push against the inside of my arm when I tried to make it move. :eek: :eek:
