Story 432: Make the Most of Mardi Gras

 SUNDAY

(Friend 1 and Friend 2 are walking in the park, the latter a bit gingerly)

Friend 1: How’s the ankle?

Friend 2: Surprisingly almost its old self – just don’t ask me to run anywhere.

Friend 1: I’ll try to remember not to.  (They walk in silence for about a minute) So, I decided this year I’m finally going to do it.

Friend 2: I think you may have had an entire conversation in your head where I wasn’t present: what exactly is “it”?

Friend 1: Right, sorry; have trouble distinguishing imagination from memory sometimes; I’m gonna do Mardi Gras this year.

Friend 2: Oh.  Well, that’s a bit last-minute – were you able to get a plane ticket and hotel that fast?

Friend 1: What?  Oh, no, I’m not going to Nooohhhrlaaaahhhns or anything like that.

Friend 2: I know the city is technically pronounced close to what you just mangled there, but maybe in your case stick to “New Orleans.”

Friend 1: Fine, whatever.  No, I’m not flying anywhere and making poor decisions surrounded by thousands of strangers: I’m staying here and making poor decisions surrounded by my furniture.

Friend 2: Lovely.  So, what’s the plan?

Friend 1: (Excitedly) Well, you know how pretty much every Lent I give up smoking since I don’t do that anyway and then my life remains unchanged for the month-and-a-half it’s supposed to be more uncomfortable than usual?

Friend 2: Vaguely.

Friend 1: So this year, I decided instead to give up candy.

Friend 2: (Stops suddenly and grabs Friend 1’s shoulder) Are you feeling all right?  You didn’t get some horrible diagnosis and this is your way of telling me?

Friend 1: (Chuckles as Friend 2 lets go of shoulder and they both start walking again) Oh, I’m probably due for one, but nope – I’m not going to have a single piece of candy for 46 whole days.

Friend 2: I thought it was only 40 whole days?

Friend 1: I count all the preliminaries to Easter – the week before was no picnic – and I hold no truck with those who say Sundays “don’t count” for this.

Friend 2: All right, circling back: you sure want to give up all candy, not just certain types?  I thought candy’s your jam.

Friend 1: I know, it’ll be a massive sacrifice on my part, I’m sure I’ll be remembered with the great martyrs of old –

Friend 2: Don’t push it.

Friend 1: – it’ll be good for my health, and I think mentally too, cutting out all that sugar for an extended time.  But first: Mardi Gras.

Friend 2: Ah yes, what’s your grand scheme for Fat Tuesday?

Friend 1: (Wrinkles nose briefly) Is that what it means?  Rude.  Anyway: I can’t ask off from work `cause there’s a big meeting I can’t get out of and some corporate whoevers are visiting and some State regulators are inspecting the building and we’re expecting to get cited for health code violations, but, the night is mine.

Friend 2: …OK, then what?

Friend 1: Then, I have the Ultimate Candy Feast.

Friend 2: Oh good gourd, my teeth hurt just asking: what does that involve?

Friend 1: My stash – I’m finishing it off.

Friend 2: I seem to remember you having a few dozen items in that stash, and the whole never getting smaller.

Friend 1: Oh yes, I make sure I’m constantly supplied, but my self-control –

Friend 2: HA!  Sorry, go ahead.

Friend 1: My self-control kept me from going through all that like a whirlwind.  That changes this Mardi Gras.

Friend 2: Well, be careful: too much of that stuff all at once will render your previous “self-control” moot.

Friend 1: I sneer at your air quotes and point out that I will pace myself much as a marathon runner does, and reach the finish line both satisfied and accepting of the long-term abstinence that awaits me.

Friend 2: Goodie.  All I can say is: good luck, and when you have your inevitable sugar overload, call 9-1-1 and not me.

Friend 1: Oh ye of little faith.

 TUESDAY

(Friend 1 sits at the kitchen table at home, surrounded by all types of candy)

Friend 1: (Muttering while unwrapping a chocolate bar) Inspections every month now – hour-long meetings every week – reports every day – wipe down all surfaces at start and end of shift – (Takes a huge bite out of the bar and chews loudly) I didn’t have a problem with my work station, so why does my life now have to be upheaved?!  (Stops mid-bite) Wait a minute: this is my Mardi Gras!  Carnevale!  A time for revelry and culinary debauchery!  Stop thinking about work, you fool!  (Wolfs down the rest of the bar and licks fingers) Ahhhh, sweet bliss.  (Suddenly looks at watch) Oops, time to start dinner.  (Grabs a bunch of caramels and shoves them into mouth while leaving the table)

(Several hours later, Friend 1 is sprawled across the couch, surrounded by wrappers and packages of candy, and watching TV with a glazed look while working on a lollipop)

TV News Anchor: – recent events truly confirm that yes, as a species, human beings really are the worst –

Friend 1: (Bites the lollipop off the stick while changing the channel) Amen – call me when the dolphins have finally taken over.  (Stars watching a movie) Ooh, here’s a good one to help pretend the rest of the world isn’t a wildfire.  (Starts heating up a marshmallow over a hot plate to make a s’more)

(Several hours later, Friend 1 has slowed down considerably and struggles to open a new bag)

Friend 1: Just – two more of these – to go – (Finally rips it open, then glances at the nutritional label on the back) “Serving size: 3 pieces” – heh-heh, please.  (Pops five pieces into mouth, grimacing a bit when swallowing) Oh yeah, no one tells me how to live.

(Several hours later, Friend 1 wakes up abruptly from a doze; the TV is still on)

Friend 1: (Waves arms wildly) Ah!  Candy cane ghosts!  (Looks around the room) Oh, they left.  (Sees that there is one last piece of candy in one last bag; resolutely takes off the wrapper and slowly brings it into mouth while chanting) Mardi Gras – Mardi Gras – Mardi Gras – Mardi – (Swallows the piece whole, then checks watch) Huh: midnight on the dot.  Perfect timing.  (Looks around at the mess and then stares off into the middle distance) Now if I can only keep this all down….

 SUNDAY

(Friend 2 calls Friend 1 in the morning)

Friend 1: (Groggily) Hi?

Friend 2: Hey, I didn’t get to call earlier this week and I wanted to check in: how was Mardi Gras?

Friend 1: Ohhh....

Friend 2: Was it all you dreamed of and more?  Did you have an absolute blast that’ll last you through the many, many days of utter deprivation that confront your suffering self?

Friend 1: Blistering sarcasm aside, there actually was one outcome from that night that was completely unexpected.

Friend 2: Really?  I can’t begin to imagine what.

Friend 1: Yeah, I’m sure you can’t.  Gloat all you want: I will never touch another piece of candy for the rest of my life.

Story 385: Spring Has Sprung Without Me

(Sibling 2 answers the phone)

Sibling 2: Hey – what’s up?

Sibling 1: Is that the first thing you think of when I call, that something’s wrong?

Sibling 2: Yes: you only call me when something’s wrong, otherwise you just e-mail or text or wait `til we meet in person.

Sibling 1: Oh.  I never realized I was so predictably self-absorbed.

Sibling 2: Don’t trouble yourself – so, what’s up?

Sibling 1: Yeah, so you know how you helped me move into the house about a year ago now?

Sibling 2: Wow, it’s almost a year already?  I feel like we did all that last weekend.

Sibling 1: Don’t get me started on time dilation –

Sibling 2: Don’t worry, I won’t.

Sibling 1: I’m calling because I really haven’t been here all that long, and there’s already a mess.

Sibling 2: Isn’t that just left over from the move?

Sibling 1: That was earlier: this is a whole new mess.  The detritus of life, if you will.

Sibling 2: I’d rather not.

Sibling 1: Well, with the weather finally getting nicer, and Passover and Easter greeting us with the promise of renewal, and Ramadan right around the corner –

Sibling 2: Really?  Seems early this year.

Sibling 1: It can fall on any month of the year since it’s based on a lunar calendar, so there is no “early.”  Anyway, back to me: my brain’s finally registering that it is, at last, spring.

Sibling 2: If you say so – I’m still wearing sweaters every other day.

Sibling 1: And with spring, I feel that I should do the time-honored tradition of… Spring Cleaning.

Sibling 2: AHAHAHAHAHA – oh, you’re serious.  Since when do you do Spring Cleaning?  Or any kind of cleaning, for that matter?

Sibling 1: I clean!  It’s just that the bare minimum I used to get away with at home isn’t going to cut it in my life anymore.

Sibling 2: Welcome to the Wonderful World of Home Ownership.

Sibling 1: Too late, I’ve been there for months.  So, you in?

Sibling 2: On what? You’re taking forever to get to the point.

Sibling 1: Helping me Spring Clean the place on Saturday!

Sibling 2: Arrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhh – what time?

Sibling 1: Preferably before 10, and I’ll order pizza for lunch.

Sibling 2: I’ll be there at 8.

 SATURDAY AT 8

(Sibling 1 opens the front door to Sibling 2)

Sibling 1: What’s all this?

Sibling 2: (Carrying a bulging trash bag) Supplies.  I figured you might need extra cleaners, dusters, sponges, buckets –

Sibling 1: Whoa-whoa-whoa, this is just cleaning, not clean­-ing.

Sibling 2: …I don’t follow.

Sibling 1: Come inside. 

Sibling 2: (Enters as Sibling 1 closes the door behind them, stares at the living  room, and drops the bag) What – ?!  This is the same mess I left you with when you moved in!

Sibling 1: (Chuckles) How unobservant you are.  That was all boxes of old stuff, which were conspicuously absent when you helped me decorate for the holidays in December.  This – (Spreads arms to encompass the room) – is the accumulation of whole new stuff that pretty much all of us fall victim to in this consumerist world.

Sibling 2: Hardly anyone’s living room looks like this!  You even bought an aquarium and don’t have any fish for it!

Sibling 1: It was a deal at a yard sale.

Sibling 2: You’re actually looking around to bring new junk in?!

Sibling 1: You gonna help me Spring Clean it all or what?

Sibling 2: (Sighs and takes off jacket) Yes, but you’re on your own for the actual cleaning that I thought was going to go on today.

Sibling 1: That’s fine; stuff like that’s a once-a-decade project anyway.

 SIX HOURS LATER

Sibling 2: (Stands in the middle of the now-spacious house, hands on hips, satisfactorily surveying the domain) Well, it’s not perfect, but definitely an improvement over the original monstrosity.

Sibling 1: (While eating, hands a slice of pizza on a plate to Sibling 2) Yeah – I can actually walk a straight line through the place now, thanks.

Sibling 2: Just remember to give away some of those clothes in the closet when you change back over to winter – you don’t need that many shirts.  Or pants.  Or Halloween costumes.

Sibling 1: You never know when an emergency sartorial situation may strike.

Sibling 2: Sure.  You got any soda?

Sibling 1: (Thinks while chewing) I believe there’s a can or two.  (Both walk to the kitchen; Sibling 1 opens the refrigerator door and hunts for a can as Sibling 2 stares in horror)

Sibling 2: What – who – where – how did this happen?!

Sibling 1: What, the food?  (Pops the tab and holds out the can)

Sibling 2: The food that’s everywhere!  This fridge was brand new when you moved in, and now it’s covered in stains and crumbs and I-don’t-want-to-know-what-else!

Sibling 1: (Glances casually at the fridge and runs a finger over a sticky shelf) Huh.  Didn’t notice in the day-to-day.  Guess it could use a wipe here and there.

Sibling 2: It could use a power wash!  Don’t you smell all the horrible, horrible odors combining into one giant STENCH?!

Sibling 1: No, but I have a bad sense of smell, you know that.

Sibling 2: (Storms off, grabs the bag of supplies, brings it into the kitchen, drops it onto the floor, pulls on a pair of gloves, and begins taking items out of the refrigerator and dumping them onto the kitchen table) Get some ice coolers if you can find any in that overflowing closet; get some bags of ice if you don’t have any packs in the freezer; and leave me alone for at least an hour!

Sibling 1: (Stares at the activity for a few moments while drinking the soda, then leaves to get the coolers; mutters to self) Doesn’t seem that bad.  If this is what the season’s gonna have every time though, I think I’ll skip spring next year.