Home Sweet...WTF

i've never been at my new house in scottsville for an entire 24 hours before. i've now been here since wednesday afternoon. i had no idea a one-restaurant/one-gas station town could be so unusual and action-packed.

let's start with thanksgiving.

there's me and the leopard lovers (my parents).

greg's sister, rita, and her husband gordon were also here. i've never known two people over the age of 4 to be so helpless and inquisitive.

then there's inar. inar drove a taxi cab until he was 40 and then decided to take the LSAT's just for kicks out of the blue.

he aced them and now lives in a penthouse in arlington.

then there's juba and his wife chris. juba is a schizophrenic who thinks there are spies living in his teeth and can wittle an exact replica of your face in under ten minutes. they have an extravagant garden, and like to make very interesting concoctions such as goat cheese + butternut squash casserole. which is spectacular.

then there's joey vegas, who is the lead guitarist in the band "The Seedz" (coming soon to the pub in harrisonburg). he just stopped by for pie.

then there's chris KYLE and his girlfriend, jen, who makes herbal remedies and tonics. she gave me a wine bottle full of an herbal tea that i'm supposed to take a shot of three times a day.

apparently some guy named river stopped by, but i did not have the pleasure.

there was much shouting and absurdity throughout the meal.

today was black friday. the seedz were playing a set at the one restaurant/bar in town called 330. greg stepped in for bass. they sounded great, actually. this is my plug to get all you youngfolks to the pub.

but...

the PEOPLE in scottsville. are insane. our thanksgiving meal was just a taste of the eclectic mix of hillbillies and the clinically insane that comprise this small town.

a few examples of WTF are:

john grisham is apparently my neighbor.

dave matthews has a vineyard a block away. and everyone hates him here because he doesn't tip and steals coffee from the gas station.

a woman at the end of the road claimed she was related to anastasia (yeah...the princess) until she died. turns out she was wrong.

the only black guy in town (eddie) was in tina turner's band. and he is the shit. he was at the bar tonight, too.

now...let's talk about the bar. it is heavily populated by people in head to toe camouflage. there is also an elderly home down the street. the old biddies love to come and dance. one of them, margaret, insisted that the lead singer of the band dance with her. and boy, she held on tight. apparently she once mistook my stepdad for elvis. and apparently my parents then invited her to see cirque du soleil with them.

overwhelmed by mullets and outdated clothing, i go to the bathroom. i find a pair of glasses and turn them in to the bartender who says, "i know who THESE belong to..."

i find my mom. apparently some women was hitting on greg while i was gone and greg told her about my mom. so this lady, named cheryl, comes over and drunkenly tries to decide which blonde is the elizabeth greg referred to. her options are me and my mom.

she could not figure out which one of us would logically be married to a 55 year old man.

so i point her in the right direction.

she starts apologizing profusely. the awkward levels were off the chart, so i pretended to make a phone call outside (my phone was dead). when i return, i see cheryl grinding on an 80 year old man. cheryl is wearing mardi gras beads (which she earned) and a tanktop showing off her impressive potbelly. she is also sporting a tramp stamp.

"hi, my name is cheryl, and i'm an alcoholic."

then the bartender comes over and gives my mom her phone that greg left somewhere.

guess who returned the phone? cheryl. so i guess we are even steven now.

the seedz have been playing this whole time. a man is sitting on the edge of the stage and my mom tells me that he was in bill clinton's secret service personnel and only has weeks to live.

next, we meet chris. he's the new bouncer for the 330. he tells us he has a collection of antique tractors.

one hundred and sixty antique tractors.

before i know it, i'm taking a shot of my herbal remedy and getting ready to head home. as i'm grabbing my things, i hear the seedz dedicate the next song to The Titanium Woman (who is indeed a real woman made mostly of metal due to a tragic horseback riding accident).

then i headed on home.