A year ago someone shared with me an amazing quote from Anne Lamott to help encourage me to tell my stories:
“You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them they should have behaved better.”
Here is another one.
After posting my reminiscent The Worst Dinner Guest Ever post I was reminded about the REAL worst dinner guest ever…
Disclosure: the relation to some of the dinner guests has been altered to protect the worst houseguest’s identity – although in all honesty I don’t know why I care to protect her… considering that this is not the first instance of her stupidity nor was it the last.
It’s January, 2013 and my husband and I are hosting Ukranian Christmas for 8 guests. My parents were coming in from out of town, about 2 hours, an aunt and uncle who also lived in the city but we don’t see often and their daughter and her boyfriend. The antagonist in this story is the cousin we shall call her, Carrie. I went all out, I made homemade from scratch perogies, and beet borscht.
To start all my guests were running late – but Carrie had a special kind of rudeness to her tardiness. She did call to let us know she was running behind – but she called her dad and asked him to meet her half way and put gas in her car because she didn’t think she’d have enough to make it all the way to our house. Her dad tells her just to go put $5 in and that he could help her after dinner. To which she responded with some serious yelling I couldn’t make out what she was saying but it was clear that she was NOT happy with the response.
Upon her arrival we find out that her boyfriend will not be joining us. He’s sick. Sidebar: I think its rude not to tell your host that someone they are expecting won’t be attending… anyways, back to Carrie.
I put the finishing touches on things including putting a bag salad her parents brought into a bowl. I throw out the bag to which she shamed me for not recycling. I thought that they couldn’t recycle plastic that had food in it (and I’m still pretty sure they can’t). She shrugs at me and tells me to wash it; like I’m an idiot (remember she’s visiting me in my house eating my food). Okay, thank you…
We finally eat! She takes a full plate. Approximately the same amount of food that my husband eats (a 110 lb girl vs. a 160 lb man) and she hardly eats any of it. When she’s the last one with food on her plate she asks for a ziploc to take it home. Claiming that she didn’t really have an appetite – she must be getting her boyfriend’s cold.
Also, she didn’t have room for the homemade apple pie I made for dessert. She asks to take home a slice.
Oh, and can I take home some beet borscht for the sick boyfriend? … I’m reluctant, but give her the last of the borscht.
Oh, and I’ll take a few of those leftover sausages.
Now things are getting ridiculous and I have had enough. Her parents either haven’t noticed or are too big of pushovers to say anything to her. I politely tell her no. “Actually, we were planning to use the leftover sausages to make a pizza.”
Carrie looks at me stunned, “but my boyfriend didn’t have one, that would be his sausage if he came.”
I reply, “and if he came he could have eaten it.”
Yelling she says, “Well that is just so typical, you are so selfish. Unbelievable.”
I’m in shock. I don’t know what to say. I look at my husband who stares back at me, neither of us know what to do. Her parents don’t even look phased. No one says anything. Everyone just ignores the whole situation. I did get to keep my leftover sausages though. Does that still count as a victory?
Even though the original worst dinner guest was still terrible, she didn’t take all my leftovers AND call me selfish. For that I reserve a special title for Carrie, [insert worst curse word you know here].
I’m sure you can find a life lesson in here somewhere.