Day CCXXI

The Great Elixir

      “Da place is closed on Monday’s, dude…well, da bahs open but we’s off.

      “I’ll git back ta ya.”

     Two weeks later the gig was on. Sonia told the girls, and since Morgana told everybody about George’s El dorado, they all thought the dude was rich. She was especially anxious to see what his place was like, and boosted it.

 

    “Hey, man, it’ll be fun, ya na, no pressure. Lets go, uh.”

     They were all game for a little party after Sunday’s gig. To make them feel safe, he told them to bring anybody they wanted. Some brought dates, guys from the bar, regulars, and a couple of bartenders, about twenty people showed up. Everybody knew every one, it was like a family gathering. The place was sound proofed with heavy curtains, and since the parlor was closed, there was no problem with the noise. It turned to be like a private after hours gig, with free drinks, and munchies.

     George went all out for it. He had a large crystal bowl of cherry punch, laced with champagne, and vodka, centered on his dinner table. Around it, he had potato salad; sodas, rum; wine, scotch; ice, Cuban sandwiches; chicken salad, fried plantains, chips… plenty of munchies. The girls were having a swell time, enjoying the music, drinking punch, and dancing.

    “Yo Ghoul, diz punch is farm out, man!” Morgana squealed with glee.

     Most people said something cool was far out, but if you were really hip, and you wanted to emphasize it, you said farm out as in it was so far out, it was out on a farm, or like in e i e i o country. So she said it was farm out.

    “Yea like in E I E I O, man…way ta go George,” someone else added.

     All was cool, nobody suspected acid in the elixir, we avoided the hard stuff, and enjoyed the punch.