What it do, Cuz?

So another Sunday, another barbecue. Mi familia down the street had a get together for my cousin-in-law's birthday and once again I had an illin' time (i'm bringing it back people work with me here). I showed up around 5 o' clock on the hot and muggy So Cal evening and commenced my eating parade, after making my rounds of hellos and how you doings with the aunties and uncles of course. Once my hunger was sated, Cuz Michelle and Cuz-in-Law Desi said it was time for the mudslides. Woo hoo! Only problem was there was no clean ice. Ice on this particular night was a must. We did have plenty of ice, ice that was in the dirty beer cooler and ice in the plastice tub the kids have been throwing things into to make it splash. So Mich, Des, and I decided to go on an ice run to the gas station down the hill. Simple enough right? Not really.

You see earlier today, someone side swiped my parents Ford Expedition, knocking off the side view mirror, while I was driving it and my mom and dad were in the back seat. Now I was pretty rattled by the whole thing to begin with, so it didn't help that my parents were in the background yelling and basically stressing me out. The guy stopped, gave his information, apologized, told me he could take care of it (he owns a body shop), and yada yada yada some other stuff. (I couldn't concentrate on what he was saying because I was busy praying to the Almighty for my parents to stop.) He didn't have any of his identification on him and he could tell that I was getting pretty suspicious of the whole scenario. He tried to assuage my feelings by putting down his address and telling me he only lived a few minutes away, so I could come by for coffee sometime if I wanted. This was where I actually started to pay attention to the person who hit the car. He was young, pretty attractive, and not tripping on the fact that moms and dad in the back are giving him hell. He just fucking hit my car (well my parents' ride), was he really trying to hit on me right now? I couldn't tell, but I made a mental note to myspace him when I got the chance. I do have all his info, I could probably run a credit check on his ass if I wanted.

So back to the ice run with my cousins. I told them the story of the side swiper and that he wasn't bad looking. They decided that it would be a fabulous idea to go to his house and try to get ice from him. He did hit the car I was in, the least he could do was give us some ice, right? Now our families have lived on this hill for more than 30 years... and we still don't know our way around. We took the truck with the navigation system in it, entered his address, and still got lost. We were on the wrong side of the hills, driving in circles, and scaring the blond lady who was walking her football sized dog. We eventually found the house, on the very end of a street, practically hanging over the side of a cliff. The car that hit mine wasn't there, so we assumed he wasn't in and decided to get ice elsewhere. The street was so narrow that we had to pull into his driveway to maneuver our way off the tiny ass road. It was then that I noticed that the camera pointed directly at my passenger side window. I hid behind a small piece of paper. Please God don't let him have seen that film.

After that ridiculousness we finally got ice. But the man stalking didn't end here. After we got back and each had a mudslide, my aunt told Michelle and me to fix a few plates for my parents' dinner and drop it off at my house. Being the good obedient girls we are, we set to work. A little barbecue here, some pansit there, and a whole talapia just for kicks. I only live two minutes down the street from my cousin, but we took Mich's car because we didn't want to be separated from our drinks too long. While we were over at my place, my cute, doctor neighbor pulled up in his luxurious ride. I usually wave hello, you know like a good neighbor, so I tried to get his attention. I failed so we headed back to Michelle's. She asked if he had a wife and I told her that I don't think he does because every so often I'm pretty sure he has someone (I'm not sure if it's always the same woman) stay over. That's all she needed, Matchmaker Michelle said game on for Desi.

Here is the scheme I came up with: Fix a plate of food, bring it over to Mr. Doctorman, knock on his door, and get Des hooked up. It worked superbly. Since we had our blended mudslides in hand to cool us during the warm night, we decided to walk over this time. We went over the game plan a couple more times and soon we were knocking on Doctorman's door. Seeing as how I was holding the food, I took the lead, buzzed and with my mudslide still in tow. "Hi, I'm your neighbor and we're having a barbecue down the street. We have too much food so we decided to bring you over a plate." God bless mudslides.

Doctorman invited us in and gave us a tour. FAT HOUSE. Truly sick. He has an aquarium that he's going to put sharks in. The house wasn't all that extravagant, it was just really, really nice. Simple, clean, modern. Lots of Southeast Asian decor. Luke I wish I could have brought you in to look over the design and architecture. Anyways Doctorman was cool. I think he was glad that some neighbors finally introduced themselves to him. By the end of the encounter, Des left him her number and I got invited to a housewarming party...with doctors! So moral of the blog, let the drunk one make the decisions.