Sizzle

I hate to complain about the weather when we're just suffering through a typical July here in the high desert and the rest of the country is being broiled like a baby beef liver. But it's been hot.

Yesterday, I never got out of my pajamas despite the fact that we have a houseguest. I languished on the sofa for most of the day yesterday in my yoga tank and cupid-adorned, men's pajama bottoms that I had rolled up to my knees — because nothing spells classy like a pair of rolled up pajama bottoms.

Yep, I socialized with the neighbors and Ron, one of Bill's oldest friends (who drove in from Denver for the weekend), in the front yard while wearing my pajamas. But considering we have a picnic table in the front yard, who would expect anything less than a pratically middle-aged matron holding court in the front yard in her pajamas.

I was too hot and too tired to even fathom making myself more presentable. And really why shouldn't I have a day to become one with the 'jamas? One might think that Ron's presence in the house would encourage me to at least make an attempt to act right, but considering the fact that I had to rouse him from the neighbor's yard at 4:30 a.m., I didn't really think that he was one to judge.

Yep, I discovered that our houseguest had gone M.I.A. around 4 a.m. Saturday night/Sunday morning. We had stayed up too late as it was Saturday night and before hittin' the hay, Ron said he was going to go out to smoke a cigarette then go to bed.

When I got up at 4:00 for a trip to the can, I noticed the light still on in the room he was staying in. I checked in on him, but there was no "him" to check on. The room was empty. I woke Bill and he searched the yard. No signs of Ron.

We couldn't figure where he'd gone, but someone had to go look for him. Bill claimed to be still under the guidance of his alcoholic mistress, so that left me to act as search party. So off I took with a search light in hand.

I slowly drove around our neighborhood, scanning the yards and alleys looking for our lost houseguest. I was beginning to fear that he wasn't going to be found until daylight or the cop's called. But I looped around our block one last time.

Then I noticed something strange in the grass at the end of our block. As I slowed and flashed my light, I saw Ron lying on his side, new Converse just about in the gutter. I rolled down the passenger-side window and called out to him.

It took a while, but Ron finally began to rouse. He rolled so that I could see his face all angelic in his drunken slumber. I flashed the light in his eyes until he sat up. I said, "Come on. Get in the car. You can't sleep in the neighbor's yard."

Finally, he responded, "Now?" Um, yeah, as much fun as I was having driving around shining a light in my neighbor's yards, I was ready to call it a night ... er, morning, such as it was.