"the" Mrs. Astor

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Everyone knows about my panic attacks when I have to go to the mainland and actually conduct some sort of business there, so when I actually travel all the way to Ft. Lauderdale I practically need an iron lung. But, duty called and we have a friend up there who has been having a hard time lately, so we went shopping and loaded up the jeep with all sorts of goodies and took off. I despise I-95; it is a third world demolition derby. You don't want me as a passenger with all the gasps and "Oh my Gods" coming out of me; we did, however, make it to our friend who was ecstatic with our visit.

Of course, you can't drink with that long drive home (and, it would be rude to the designated driver to do so, I think), so it was a dry night. Sunday, though wasn't very dry, which leads me to this:

Sent with this in a town-wide cable from Baroness Seitzinger was, "Soooo…. The Countess & Mr. Astor came over for this afternoon. I needed help with the Laundry and Alexis’s name came to mind…..she is so good with domestic help you know.
So….I think my vodka bottle has some sort of leak that has allowed the alcohol to evaporate.

When she arrived….it was full…..when she left…..almost gone. I am certain there is a defect in the bottle.

Notice my finger pointing….:)"

Her invitation that afternoon for cocktails was a trap, plain and simple. She had carefully been monitoring our bike ride from the roof of her building and, upon arriving, we were greeted with bottles of liquor brought by us on a previous occasion and plied with plenty. Before we knew it, she had corralled us into her laundry room and put us to work. I don't remember emptying that bottle, and it is just as likely that she dumped it out after I left to start that treacherous story. (She also displayed a new super-duty Rowenta iron, too, as if to threaten us.) All of this she did while serving rum-soaked prunes and talking about the high price of stone crab and young men (although I don't think she differentiates between her sweet meats). There is no limit to her gall.


At 7:41 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Gasp! That hideous under-cabinet fluorescent lighting simply has to go!


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