I thought I’d have a minute to myself at the gate.
Instead this blur of color materialized into a screaming Negro. Let me put quotes around the relevant words: “Negro” (as in her most common label of identity); “screaming” is the adjective chosen by me to describe what was happening.
We waited for MasterHerdsman awhile past his ETA. I mean, I think Soirée-Leone was early, then I snuck up on her, then we waited. I’m not always patient, particularly when I’m hungry…
After arrival and unpacking, we were assigned tasks in the kitchen.
Then Soirée-Leone vanished and me and MasterHerdsman had to figure stuff out.
At some point, I realized Design A is perfect as a guide for next year. With room for on-the-fly adjusting.
“We won!” Soirée-Leone hollered.
“Team B came in second!” Leslie added.
I was still waiting for dinner. Soirée-Leone got on it. “We’re scraping the bottom of the barrel!”
Leslie responded: “We were cleaning out the fridge! Where did the barrel come from? You been hiding it in the fridge all this time?!”