I spoke to my sister-in-law (Adam's brother's wife) last night (one of my top ten favorite things to do) and she mentioned that in all my blogs, she has not once seen her name been mentioned. I reminded her that because we become gossipy bitches when our phone lines connect, there's not much that I could write about her that wouldn't divulge some of my innermost gossip topics.
However, since I love to tell a story, a funny, gossipy one at that, I'll tell the story of how I first met my friend and sister-in-law Christine.
Adam and I had been dating for several months in October 1999 when we went to visit his brother Scott in New Jersey for a few hours. While we were there, Scott mentioned that he'd started dating a new girl, Christine, and that he'd really like for us to meet her. So he called her and asked her to come over to meet Adam and me for a little while. I could hear her voice on the other end of the phone saying she didn't want to come over. Right away, I was a little miffed; so Scott's new girlfriend doesn't want to come meet us? Granted, he'd just had a volatile breakup with his last girlfriend, who literally had turned out to be a nut job (let's just say that the end involved a car being driven on the New York City sidewalk; a clawed, scratched and bloody Scott; and Adam's missing bottle of wine). So, I was a little jaded about the women in Scott's life. However, after he finally convinced her to come over, I started to look forward to having another woman to hang out with, and possibly do some double dating with. At the time, Adam and I didn't have many other couples to hang out with. Then, 15 minutes later, she walked in. Christine looked eerily like the crazy nut job girlfriend from before, and she had a pompous air about her (that was only bolstered by her long, fur-lined coat). She barely said hello to Adam and me, and sat quietly, not talking for the rest of the afternoon. My "miffiness" was buoyed. Hmmmph.
Well, because men are men and don't pick up on anything, including lack of chemistry (Christine's and mine, that is), Adam and Scott suggested going to Costco to do some shopping. Once again, Christine protested (and I wanted to protest because I didn't know if I could handle another minute with Miss Sourpuss), but Scott managed to convince her to go with us. We arrive at Costco, and of course, the boys head off toward the gadgets, suggesting that we ladies "go look at clothes or something". I had that steely feeling in me that I was going through the motions, trying to be nice to some woman that obviously had no interest in me, and who I was at that point hoping not to have to spend much more time with. We shuffled around through the clothing, then ended up perusing the books and novels table. This was the time when "pet autobiographies" (a la "Marley and Me") were just starting to become fashionable, so being the dog enthusiast that I am, I picked up a few such novels and started telling Christine about Shabbi and Kika. I asked her if she had any pets.
...that was the turning point that changed everything.
Christine said, "Yeah, I've got two cats. One's called Gimpy, and the other one's called Big Fatty." Now, you have to imagine her talking with her strong New Jersey accent, which just makes the story (even to me, now 9 years later) absolutely hilarious.
I did a double take and said, "Gimpy? Big Fatty? Those are some names for cats."
Without smiling or missing a beat, she went on. "Well, Gimpy's real name is Elvis, but when I got him he'd just been hit by a car so he had a limp, so I started calling him The Gimp. Oh, but he gets around just fine now."
I started to look at this girl again. Not only was she not smiling at her own story, but she wasn't even looking at me. A story that was starting to break down the wall I'd put up against her didn't even cause her to blink. I took a shot. "So, why is Big Fatty called Big Fatty?"
Once again she responded matter-of-factly, "Oh, because he weighs 33 pounds. He's really fat."
I laughed in spite of myself. Thirty-three pounds???? That cat was 3 Kikas! How could it be? I just couldn't fathom such a large cat, and so I asked her if she'd had him since he was a kitten.
For the first time, Christine almost cracked a smile. "No, no, but it's a funny story, actually. I was working at my job and one of the girls who worked there was telling me that she had this cat that she couldn't keep anymore and wondered if I'd want it. I wanted a cat, so I told her that I'd take it and see if things worked out. So she and her husband lived about an hour or so away from where I did, so my dad came over to my place that weekend and waited with me for the girl and her husband to show up with the cat. When they drove up, I asked them if they wanted to come in for awhile--ya know, 'cause they'd been driving for a long time and maybe they needed to use the bathroom or something--but they said they were in a hurry and had someplace to be. I was surprised they were in such a rush, but didn't think much of it. I went to the car to help get the cat carrier out, but the husband insisted on carrying it inside the house for me. They were practically out of the door already by the time the cat was inside my place. I couldn't figure out why they were in such a hurry to leave. I asked them again if they wanted to stay for awhile, but they kept saying that they really had to be on their way and they'd see me later. Then they were gone.
So my father and I are standing in my living room with this cat in the carrier. I opened the door to the carrier to let the cat come out but it wouldn't move. My father said, 'Christine, I'll pick it up and turn it over so the cat falls out and you catch it, okay?' So that's what we did. But, Lauren, as soon as my dad picked up that carrier, he said, 'Christine, what the f-ck is in this thing? This f-cking thing weighs a ton!' I was starting to understand why the husband didn't want me to carry the cat into the house! So anyway, dad picks up this carrier, turns it sideways, and this cat starts oozing out. Lauren, the cat was just coming and coming! There was so much cat, and my dad is yelling at me, like 'What the hell kinda cat is this?' and I'm yelling back that I don't know what the hell this cat is. Anyway, this thing finally comes completely out of the carrier and dad and I are standing there looking at this big fat cat, with just layers and layers of fat and skin hanging all around him." Finally, she stops and takes a breath and looks at me. Then with a big loud laugh, she shrieks, "So that's Big Fatty!" and starts giggling.
I was already in tears, I was laughing so hard at her story. I couldn't believe the details, but I couldn't believe what a good storyteller she was either. She captured the whole scene in such a way that I felt like I was there. And, most of all, I couldn't believe that the seemingly sullen, sourpuss girl from the afternoon had turned into a hilariously cool gal that evening. From that moment on, Christine and I have been close close friends.
It was only years later that she revealed to that she was in a sour mood that day because she was due to have surgery early the following morning, and so she really didn't want to hang out with us that evening. I felt awful; had I known that had been what was going on, I would have been so much more understanding.
For years now, we've referred to each other as sister-in-laws, even when Adam and I weren't married. Christine is one of my closest friends and one of my favorite relatives. So, not to be sappy, but I feel extremely lucky to have a friend as good as Christine, who can make me laugh as hard today as she did that first night. And there's no better person to gossip with about anything and everything.
I love ya, kiddo, and hope this post makes you laugh.
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