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Saturday, Jul. 20, 2002 - 12:28 a.m.

Becoming a wino, I know

NOTE: You are about to read a slightly updated Part Five of God knows how many installments in the account of my trip. To start at the beginning, go here.

I awake from my nap and walk downstairs to see Tessa walking down the front walk to her car. Casey is in the kitchen helping prepare dishes for the party, and I stand around trying to help. I'm not much good around the kitchen. I could be, but when I'm preparing food for more than one person (and that person is, 99 percent of the time, me), I worry over it. I want it to be perfect. More than perfect. So when I'm put to work in the kitchen, I ask for detailed instructions each step of the way. I imagine it can be kind of annoying, and sometimes people will just get impatient with me and do it themselves. Which I don't mind, either, and I'm sent off to find something better to do to help out.

So while Casey's snipping basil or whatever it is she's doing, I say, "I could go get ice. I'm a good ice-getter."

"Bassett just went to do that," Casey says. "You missed your chance."

But Jim grabs me to help with the sangria. He's already sliced up all the fruit and put it in a big pot, so we carry it downstairs to add the alcohol and mix. I don't even remember all of what goes into it. I'm dispatched upstairs again to get a measuring cup, into which I pour the remainder of a bottle, which is exactly one quart � half the bottle, so we add the entire contents of an unopened bottle. And three bottles of wine.

Mmmm ... sangria.

Soon everything is finished and we're left to enjoy the sangria and munch on pretzels and things until the guests arrive. Casey, Tessa and I do just that, standing around one of the tables out on the patio with drinks in our hands and our other hands grabbing for various hors d'ourves.

�So, Dan, I went to the zoo the other day,� Tessa says to me out of the blue at one point when Casey�s gone inside to help bring out more food.

Confused, I reply, �Yeah? OK ...�

�I was in the reptile section ... AND TWO PYTHONS JUMPED OUT OF MY SHIRT!� With that, she thrusts her fists forward slightly downward and flexes her arms in a wrestling pose. I find it hilarious. Later, when Casey hears it, not so much. I�m always amused at such jokes, even if other people have heard them like, six years ago.

Because there was also:

�Do you have any tickets?�

�What tickets?�

�To the GUN SHOW!� (More flexing.)

And:

�Do you have a sewing kit?�

�Why?�

�Because I�m feeling a little RIPPED!!� (Flex again.)

Back to reality ...

So many of the arriving guests greet Casey and Tessa by saying things like, "It's so good to see you" and "How's school/the job?" (depending on which sister they're talking to). But most of them introduce themselves to me with, "You must be Dan." Kinda makes me feel like I have an image to live up to, since my reputation seems to precede me.

After everyone arrives and has rotated through the table at which the girls and I stand guard, shoveling pretzels and cheese and things into our mouths, the three of us steal off to the front porch to sit on the wicker loveseat (is it a couch or a sofa if it's not made of the standard couch or sofa material?) and act more like the children we were than the adults we'll be. We're not terribly missed, but they know where to find us when dinner is served.

So we head back to the patio to eat and it's a fine feast. That's all I remember, really. It was good. The chickens were grilled on Jim's new outdoor grill using an interesting method shown in a magazine � the birds were mounted on beer cans (pretty much stuck up their asses) and cooked that way. It sounds weird, but the results are tasty. Jim's all about the grill now.

We're still sitting at the table when Jim announces that he and one of the Larrys (or whatever his name was � there were two guys there with the same name) are ready to take on any challengers in bocce. Casey and I accept the challenge, and I'm sent to the end of the short yard near the garage to compete directly against Jim. I struggle at first to adjust to the short yard, with the slope near the house and basement entry down by Casey's end giving me fits, but soon I find my stroke and make it tough on Jim. He says as much during one set. But in the end, he and Larry win out.

From there, I descend into drunkenness. I remember little of what happens the rest of the night, though I know I spend it sitting around talking and drinking. Tessa leaves early because she has to be up the next morning to work at the restaurant. Casey and I put on jackets against the cool Johnstown night and she's up much later than she wants to be.

By the time it gets down to the final six � Casey and myself, Jim and Carol, and the Loefflers � I'm back on wine, and Casey's done drinking. Jim and his pal want to open one more bottle, but they need help, so I give in. He asks me if a certain year sounds good, and I just concede to his preference, because I don't try to pretend I know anything about wine. "Now, I may have shown you my wine collection," Jim says, smiling drunkenly, "but don't think that means you can go down there and pick one out." I assure him I'll never attempt anything of the sort.

Once we've finished off the last bottle, we clean up what we can and I start the post-drinking washout, gulping down as many glasses of water as I can. With ice so that, although I'm standing in the kitchen, I'm soon shivering. Carol sends Jim off to bed, because he's drunk, and Casey, exhausted, goes upstairs as well. I stay up talking to Carol in the kitchen while she goes through some dishes and it's close to 1:30 by the time we go upstairs ourselves.

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