Hard to believe, but still feeling hard done by following Friday's dinner party. Horseface and my boss arrived early so we could have drinks before dinner. All going well and almost warmed to Horseface, seems beating her at quiz has worn off. Did play my part, however, enjoying silent smugness at winning.
Drinks were going down nicely, and other half was getting on with the cooking. At this point I should say that our home is not a large affair, and as such front door joins onto living room. This became abundantly important as the door bell rang. In my improved mood I carelessly answered the door, only to find a particularly severe looking middle-aged woman stood on doorstep. Making sure I was harbouring no postmen this time, I ventured to ask how I could help. Answer came back that I could help by providing the bags of clothes that had been left here.
Looked around nervously, finding Horseface and my boss looking on with intense interest to the evening's entertainment. Barely had time to return my focus to the woman before she upped her entertainment value with a voice the local amateur dramatics would have been proud to stage. Told me in no uncertain terms that I was a disgrace to the neighbourhood, and how dare I take other peoples' charitable donations and do with them as I please and furthermore having the sheer cheek to try and palm off such a horrible coat added further insult to their charitable cause and I could have that back and do with THAT as I please, thank you very much. At this point sensible argument completely failed me, and with horror I held the charity coat that the woman shoved in my hands. She stormed down the drive and into the night.
I shut the door and turned around, mouth half open and brain desperately trying to think of an explanation. To match my expression, both Horseface and boss also had mouths open, as had other half, joining the entertainment in the second act.
"What bags of clothes are these? The woman is clearly mad, there was only one bag!" said my other half, darling that she is, in my defence. In the face of such loyalty could hardly lie, so said that actually there was one or two more, but I took them to the charity shop myself, quite innocently, I made sure to point out to Horseface and boss.
"How many bags?" asked other half, somewhat less warmly. Explained it was, well, maybe half a dozen or so. At this point boss thought it highly amusing to chip in, saying he knew I had some tendencies, what with being "homeless" and all, but hording charity bags was too much. Obviously thought this absolutely hilarious, and proceeded to crack up laughing to the point of almost tears, with both Horseface and other half looking on incredulously.
In panic I tried to cover up this particular hint at further embarrassment, but no amount of asking how dinner was going would pursued other half from continuing line of questioning. Boss, when suitably recovered from laughing, proceeded to tell the story of the coffee shop, whereupon Horseface and other half joined him in laughing in relay formation for a good five minutes, with one setting the other off when they tried to politely gain their composure. By this point had shoved coat in kitchen and regained chair, and drink, now quite used to hilarity at my expense.
Thankfully this episode came to an end as the fire alarm was set off due to some degree of smoke emanating from the kitchen. Turned out to be dinner, which somewhat let down the evening eating steak certainly in no danger of being rare, and more in danger of being charcoal. Much to my displeasure going against her word other half gave me the largest steak.
Drinks continued in good humour afterwards, thankfully more palatable than meal itself.