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The Dinner Party.

"A true story"
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I remember it was the year that I finally won the lawsuit that I had filed four years ago.  It was a very sizable amount of money and to celebrate I quit my job. I then contacted my stunning model friend and asked if her numerous offers to visit and stay with her in Fort Lauderdale were still good, and they were. To this day there are still people that believe that we were having sex. No one wanted to believe that we were just friends.

I would be fibbing if I said that I didn't find her attractive, she was stunning beyond belief. I viewed her as a friend and mentor; she helped to take off some of my rough edges off my personality. So I never thought of her any other way.

I then purchased a classic luxury car and loaded it with my clothing. Twenty-two hours later I arrived in Fort Lauderdale. My friend's house was situated on one of the cut off canals and was complete with a boat dock and a sundeck. My living quarters were the attached mother-in-law apartment that had its own private entrance.

Now despite not owning a boat, she was on the board of a dozen yacht/ social clubs. My membership in all of them could be granted with just a phone call from her. I declined all but one of these clubs. This one was the close, so there was less of a chance of getting lost on the way home.

Now she was not the drinker that I was, but she enjoyed the bands and dancing. Her ultimate goal was to have me meet a nice girl and stay in Florida where she could work to secure me employment. However, my attempts to chat up an attractive female while she remained seated at my table did not go over very well.

"We are not a couple,"my friend would announce to any female that happened to walk by and look me over. From the looks, I received no one believed her.

Now there always seemed to be a dinner party or a fundraiser put on by the various organizations that she was a member of and I was always the plus one of her invitation. My story concerns my first formal dinner party.

Clad in a tux, I sat opposite my friend who also dressed to the nines. It was at one of those long dinner tables that one sees in the old movies. Introductions were made to those around me, and the conversations were on a myriad of topics. Dinner was served, and I was perplexed by the numerous forks and spoons positioned by my plate.

My friend only smiled as she picked up her appetizer fork and stared at mine. It was an indication that I was to do the same. I somehow managed to make it through dinner without making a fool of myself. Then came the after-dinner drinks and more conversation.

I relaxed and loosened up to the point that I told a joke, by the laughter I got it was well received. Now I just don't tell a joke, I use voices and gesticulations. As a result, my jokes and stories are never boring. Now I did not hog the center stage; I remained silent to give others a turn. No one wanted to, and there were multiple requests to tell another.

I then began the ethnic jokes as I had a number of them. The best ones were concerning Jewish people because I could do a great accent. It was after the third or fourth one that I noticed my friend had a serious look on her pretty face. She leaned forward and hissed.

"Most of these people are Jewish," she informed me.

"Oh crap," I said to myself.

Suddenly this very large woman grabbed me by the bicep and literally pulled me out of my chair.

"You come with me," she said as I was pulled me to the head of the table where the club officers were seated.

She approached one of the oldest male members who by his uniform was a retired Naval officer.

"Listen to him, he sounds just like your Cousin Morty," she told this older male in thick Jewish accent.

"Do that voice you did," she ordered me.

I complied, and the old man laughed until he had tears.

"Oy gavalt, he could be Morty," The old man said between laughter.

My friend was no longer upset. She sat there smiling with her hands folded demurely. Her escort was a big hit.





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