Friday, March 30, 2007

Au Revoir, Elizabeth


All afternoon I though there was lightning in the sky outside. It turns out that one of my ceiling lights is beginning to die – a process that begins with an occasional flicker, advances to a nausea-inducing strobe and then to utter darkness only after which building maintenance may replace the bulb.

There is a damp patch in the carpet where Betsy’s refrigerator, evidently not house-broken, has left it’s defrosting. I am now a foster caregiver to this battered little appliance. I will keep an eye on it until Betsy finds another position, either here or at another institution.

This is Betsy’s last day. The four of us made what may be our final coffee run this morning at 10:00. In about 90 minutes, many of us will leave the floor for a nearby establishment where her exit interview will be conducted. This, of course, is not the real farewell, only another excuse for her many fellow employees to cadge a free drink or two or three out of our employer.

The real farewell was yesterday. The four of us, Tom, Patrick, Betsy and I, climbed into a cab and directed the hack to Taylor Street’s “Little Italy” where we dined at a restaurant whose name I cannot remember. Although a farewell, the mood was festive, made even more so by two bottles of wine, the second of which was a 2001 Tedeschi Amarone della Valpollicella Classico. It is a simply marvelous red, and I understand that Sam’s Club carries it for $50 a bottle. I must commend Tom on his restraint; having given up wine for Lent he permitted only Diet Coke with lime to elevate his mood. The food was excellent; of particular note were the calamari, the duck-stuffed ravioli and the wild boar with wide noodles. There was much laughing and camaraderie, all in all a fitting send off for our coffee bud. Needless to say the rest of the afternoon was somewhat of a blur.

The little white refrigerator makes an annoying high-pitched whine that can be heard only by dogs and anyone sitting in my office chair. I may have to find a closet in which to store it until Betsy reclaims it.

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

Good bye and best wishes Betsy! Although we have never met in person I almost feel like I might have known you if by chance we had both worked in the same institution for any length of time. You will be missed in every way possible and your appliance will serve as a cold, perhaps chilling reminder of what might have been.

Anonymous said...

I still think Betsy is a spy!

Shiloh Guy said...

1) Do not supplement your diet with Italian food

2) Do not supplement your diet with good red wine

3) Do not supplement your diet with anything from any restaurant or food cart on Taylor Street

4) Avoid raviolis and noodles

5) The calamari should be ok

You're welcome

OG said...

Shiloh-dud:

Between the dietary advice you give here and the advice I found in the Ashtray there appears to be little room for joie de vivre, let alone opportunity for developing that little pot belly that your wife finds so appealing!

Anne of The House said...

To induce the cute little pot belly effect on a husband- one needs only to offer oreos and milk on a regular basis...along with the occasional actual meal which when witheld produces a growling gut and mild to severe mood altercation...which then produces the ravenous guilty raid of Braunschweiger and bread...along with grunts and slurps (which aren't so attractive!). I realize salads would be better for us all. ...along with regular meals.
Someday maybe.

Shiloh Guy said...

Oh, Oggie! Please don't worry about my "joy of life." (I don't speak French.) I was just giving the requested advice on dietary supplements for which Yak asked! I certainly don't live that way! How could one even call that living? Ha Ha Ha!

Anne of The House said...

Honestly- it's getting thick! Can we have another blog please?