The food was wonderful and the wines outstanding. Jan and I were celebrating birthdays over dinner with a few friends. We had both just turned 42, and had known each other since grade school, but had not seen each other for almost 3 years.
"As Jan and Laine turn 42, I'd drop my pants and f--- both of you", and other such silly toasts carried throughout the evening. I also noticed that Jan continued drinking rather heavily as the evening wore on.
Finally, concerned for her, I called for my car, my beloved 1965 Mustang, at the valet parking desk. The valet helped me get Jan settled into the car, then opening my door, helped me into the drivers seat. There is no way to get into one of these cars wearing a short, slit skirt, without it riding up to your hips, and the young man smiled approvingly. I tipped him nicely -- heck, it's not every day a 20-something smiles when he looks up a 42 year-old's skirt!
Jan was able to give me her home address, which I plugged into the navigator. The 20-minute drive to her home went quickly, and as we pulled into the drive I was stunned -- the house was a mansion, or at least to me. Jan had been divorced a few years ago, and apparently she had gotten the house, or at least that's what I think she said.
A young man opened the front door and walked to the car. Opening the passenger door, he introduced himself, "Hello, I'm Danny, her son. Has she been drinking too much again?
"Hello Danny, I'm your Mom's friend Laine. Yes, I'm afraid she may have had a little too much wine at dinner, so I thought it best I drive her home. Let's get her inside."
We got Jan to her bedroom and I helped her out of her dress clothes and into bed. I think she was asleep before her head hit the pillow.
"Danny, your Mom's car is still at the restaurant -- do you want to go there and pick it up? I kinda hate to leave it there overnight."