Monday, April 03, 2006

On Saturday I attended a friend's daughter's Bat Mitzvah. It was a beautiful ceremony at the Synagogue and it was an amazing party afterwards.

The food was excellent, the room was gorgeous, the company was fun. The kids were adorable, the music was hot and we danced, danced, danced.

There was an incident though, and I was a part of it.

At one point during the dancefest the entertainers came onto the dancefloor and started handing out sunglasses, glowsticks, toys, and, white fedora hats.

I got a glowstick and a neon flashing ball. But, I was NOT given one of the white fedoras. Normally I wouldn't care but these hats were HOT. I wanted one. Most of the kids got one and a bunch of the old folks got one too.

I sat at my table, somewhat depressed over my lack of a cool hat. I plotted a course of action.

The girls grandfather was in a wheelchair. He had his hat tucked into a pouch on the back of the chair.

As he came steaming across the dancefloor in his HOT ROD wheelchair I made my move. I jumped from my seat and dove at the back of his chair planning to smother him and grab the hat. He was too fast. I landed flat on my face.

With my tail between my legs I went back to my table and plotted anew. Then I spotted her. Four tables down. She was about 5ft tall, grey hair, at least 75 years old. I had my mark.

I stood up, straightened my tie, shot my cuffs and strode over to her table.

I looked her dead in the eye and said, "Give me the hat." "What?" she said. "The hat old woman, give me the hat." "Well I never. I will not give you my hat." Listen you old bat, that hat is mine now, is this going to be easy or hard?" "It my hat."

My patience was worn out. I grabbed her by the shoulders, lifted her off her chair, shook her until the hat fell and then tossed her three feet, where she fell hard and curled up into a ball, weeping.

I put the hat on at a rakish angle, walked back to my table and enjoyed the Shrimp Raviloi appetizer.