I know I have a questionable history with meeting strangers but I swear these people came to me. But when someone texts you that they’re making dinner, and you don’t have any plans, you have to at least listen right?
That’s all I did.
A few things were clear from the random text message.
One, someone was making me dinner at 8:00 pm.
Two, I had some sort of camp.
Was it drinking camp? I don’t know! I had so many questions but I couldn’t just start asking them because–well–I was supposed to be someone else. But Stephen and Helyne were making the dinner and all I could think of was why Helyne spelled her name like that. Was it a typo? I don’t know, and maybe I never will. I also didn’t want to commit to a dinner if I didn’t like what was being made. Is that petty? Only thing worse than eating with strangers is eating something you don’t like with strangers. So, I got Stephen’s number from the first lady and texted him to find out what they were making.
My new uncle Stephen was a little intrigued with my phone number and that makes sense because technically, I’m not his nephew. But, like any good uncle does, he pushed aside his doubts and let me in on the dinner menu.
Was I thrilled about the dinner choice?
No, I wasn’t. And for that, I blame Helyne. She’s probably always on a health-kick. But again, I had no plans and I’m always down to meet new people. The first text came from what I can only imagine is my pseudo-mother. My mother is really great and makes me dinner sometimes but two moms making you dinner? You need to take that.
I was planning my dinner outfit and what to tell Stephen and the gang at dinner when I arrived but things started to spiral real quickly. It turned real negative all of a sudden and before I could ask my new mom for hot tub money, shit hit the fan.
A different Scott?
Maybe your Scott is a piece of shit and that mis-text was a sign of good things to come. Oh, and what about that “appointment” from the first text? Sounds suspicious and maybe like this family needs a Scott-swap. He sounds depressed and well, I’m better now.
I took the time to block out the real numbers involved in these texts because I’m on high-Keath-alert and don’t want any PR problems. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed with this outcome. I’ve lost Keath. I never made it to Savannah for the Markwalter reunion and now I’ll never meet Stephen.