This Saturday is a big day in the evolution of my relationship with Wine Guy. He meets my brother Pat -- better known by his family as Pat-hole. An appropriate name I assure you.
Pat is seven years older than me and I've had a bit of a love/hate relationship with him my whole life. As a young girl, I thought he was the coolest thing that ever lived. He protected me from the mayhem that frequently ensued between my three siblings and he always seemed to know how to ratchet up the fun to intense levels. I made every effort a five year old girl could to emulate him: I dressed like him (blue Nikes with the yellow swoosh), ate like him (pile as much as you can on your plate and scarf it down - still trying to rid myself of that habit), I even competed with him over how far we could stick out our bloated stomachs. It was pretty gross -- and totally awesome.
This infatuation lasted until I was about nine or so. Then his partying tendencies started to get a little too scary for me, especially when my friends were around. The best way I can describe him is Jeff Spicoli, but far more aggro. He regularly used words like cowabunga, bitchin', and fuckin' a. He had hidden pot plants growing in our backyard and drove his "turbo" economy car like it was a racing machine. He loved Van Halen, drank and smoked pot to excess, and had his pick of girls thanks to his good looks.
From that point until pretty damn recently, Pat-hole was the bane of my existence. Particularly when it came to him meeting my boyfriends. It wasn't much of a problem until my mid 20s since I avoided dating in high school and lived far away for college and beyond. But when I moved back to San Diego six years ago, Pat-hole reemerged as a major concern for me.
He's notorious for saying just the wrong thing to the wrong person - probably to get a reaction out of me. Quite effective I must say. With boyfriends he usually pulls them aside with a friendly yet threatening arm around the neck in an almost chokehold, "You know if you mess with my sister I'm going to have to come and kick your ass." Nice. But I usually do try to warn the guys ahead of time. (He even managed to piss my boss off in a record 3.5 seconds after meeting her by saying "So when are giving my baby sister a raise?" This during a very difficult budget crisis when no one was getting raises but everyone was asking for one.)
He's definitely toned it down over the last few years though. I suspect because he settled down and got married a couple years back. Now he seems quite determined to have me as a part of his life. He calls me every few weeks and greets me with an enthusiastic but still somewhat ominous sounding "Helllloooo Baby Sistahhh." But I'm starting to maybe, sort of, kind of like it. Sometimes I even answer the phone when he calls instead of letting it go to voicemail so I can emotionally prepare to call him back.
As much as you might want to dislike him, you just can't entirely. And I'm not alone in this. I'm continually amazed by his ever growing collection of friends from every possible walk of life: wealthy art patrons, gay hairstylists, beading fanatics (he makes amazing jewelry out of beads he collects from around the world), convicts who ride dirt bikes in the desert. He is what you would call a "character" and, as he gets older and more mellow, I'm finding myself strangely proud that he is my brother (yes mom, I did just type that).
So this weekend I am finally introducing Wine Guy to Spicoli. When I first considered how this might go, I tensed with anxiety. WG is thoughtful, hyper intelligent, philosophical, super left wing political, a former hippy/vegan. Sometimes I like to think of him as Duckie from Pretty in Pink (did anyone else have a thing for Duckie? So much better than Blane, "that's not a name, that's an appliance!"). What do you think it would be like if Spicoli and Duckie were forced to go to dinner and have civilized conversation?!
But then I started thinking about it. My brother isn't really Spicoli anymore. He's evolved into a rather interesting person. Annoying quite often, yes, but interesting nonetheless. And, now that I think about it, I bet Duckie and Spicoli would have a pretty damn good time together seeing as they are both accustomed to life on the fringes of normal. Hmmm....this might actually get pretty entertaining.
I've certainly prepared Wine Guy for just about every possible scenario. We both agreed that we should veer from our detox diet since Wine Guy is understandably reluctant to eat like a freak in front of Pat-hole. I don't blame him. Phew. Embarrassing situation averted.
Wish us luck.
P.S.Detox Diet Day #11 (cheated twice but not too badly). Only 10 more days to go!!! (yes we are cheating on Thanksgiving)
P.S. This is Post #101! Woohoo!