8:27 PM, Christmas Eve 2025
Just had a thought. A scenario ran through my mind. I’m planning on hanging out with RoDa tomorrow night after the Garfield expedition. The scenario is the following. I’m going to hang with RoDa. Bill and Mike, while invited, probably won’t join me. One of them, either Bill or Mike, will think I am fooling around with RoDa. Which is not the case, since I don’t have sex with friends. And the other side of that, I’ve never really been friends with anyone I had sex with. Mike is the standard bearer. So it goes…
Now it is Saturday, December 27. Bill is in Pennsylvania, Mike is asleep in bed. It snowed last night, enough to plan on staying in all day and night and not heading out. We have plenty to eat. Last night we polished off half of the care package that Elaine sent us home with.
Thursday was Christmas day and it was pleasant. Bill, Mike and myself exchanged gifts on Christmas Eve and we we all satisfied with our presents. Mike’s gift to us has been kicked down the road until Bill returns from his road trip, which will be in 2026. Mike is taking us to dinner, more than likely in Hoboken.
On Christmas Day the three of us took a train, an hour earlier, from Hoboken to Garfield. It was a smooth ride, not too many passengers. We usually arrive around 2:00 PM but Elaine asked for an early arrival so her daughter, my niece Meghan could make an appearance with her husband Rob and their daughter, my grand niece (?) Shelby.
Mike thinks Shelby was a little bit afraid of him. I reassured him that Shelby was a bit shy, even with me who she hadn’t seen in about 2 years. I bought a kid’s DJ kit for Shelby, some keyboards and preprogrammed sounds in it. She seemed to have figured out how to play Mary Had a Little Lamb which may be a very surprising accomplishment.
We made it back to Hoboken a bit before 6:00 PM which was good but we were tired, at least I was, and the temperature was dropping. I had a plan to visit RoDa but texted him to postpone to yesterday which did not happen. So I texted him letting him know I will be coming over on Sunday when he is not working. I’m waiting to hear if it acceptable to RoDa.
It snowed last night. About 6 inches they say. I will have to take their word for it as I am not interestested in going outside with a ruler to measure the accumulation. Mike is asleep in the bed. I’ve been up for a few hours. He had gotten up and did what he does, shoot some videos, then he came back to bed.
I got up about a half hour later. Made some coffee which I admit, I am spoiled by the coffee Bill makes for me daily. He’s in Pennsylvania so no coffee from hime for close to two weeks. I’ll get by. Mike says he’s going to stay here so I won’t be alone, suffering from separation anxiety.
I think Bill appreciates it, I know that I do.
A Google Gemini rewrite as a humorous essay
The Great Coffee Crisis of 2025
It’s 8:27 PM on Christmas Eve, and I am currently doing what any sane person does during the “most wonderful time of the year”: inventing imaginary drama.
I’m planning to visit my friend RoDa, and I’ve already convinced myself that Bill or Mike will suspect some grand, illicit romance. Let’s be clear: I don’t have sex with friends. In my world, sex and friendship are like oil and water, or like me and a gym membership—they simply do not mix. Once you’ve seen someone’s “bedroom eyes,” it’s very hard to go back to “watching Netflix and eating lukewarm takeout” eyes. Mike is the living, breathing proof of this policy. So it goes.
The Garfield Expedition
Fast forward to Saturday, December 27th. We survived the Christmas Day trek to Garfield. Elaine requested an early arrival, which in family-speak is a polite way of saying, “Be here at dawn or be dead to me.” We boarded the train an hour early, a move that made us feel incredibly punctual and slightly superior to the three other passengers on the car.
The mission? To see my niece Meghan, her husband Rob, and their daughter Shelby. I believe Shelby is my grand-niece, though the family tree is starting to look more like a dense thicket that requires a machete to navigate.
I bought Shelby a kid’s DJ kit. Because if there’s one thing a toddler needs, it’s the ability to drop a sick beat before they can tie their own shoes. She actually managed a rendition of Mary Had a Little Lamb. It was either a sign of burgeoning genius or the keyboard is haunted. Mike, meanwhile, was convinced Shelby was terrified of him. “She’s just shy,” I told him. “And also, you’re a giant stranger. It’s a healthy survival instinct.”
Snowbound and Caffeineless
By the time we got back to Hoboken, the temperature had plummeted, and so had my social battery. My plans with RoDa have been kicked down the road so many times they’re practically in the next county. We’re currently aiming for Sunday, pending his approval.
Last night, it snowed. “They” say it’s six inches. I will take their word for it. I am not a surveyor, nor am I a masochist; I have zero intention of going outside with a ruler to fact-check the atmosphere.
Currently, the domestic situation is as follows:
Bill: In Pennsylvania until 2026.
Mike: Currently asleep. He woke up briefly to film some videos (his primary hobby/obsession) and then crawled back into bed like a weary starlet.
Me: Slowly dying of caffeine withdrawal.
I am a broken man. Bill has spoiled me with daily, hand-crafted coffee for so long that my own brewing skills have regressed to “caveman with a kettle.” I have two weeks of this ahead of me. Mike has graciously offered to stay here so I don’t suffer from “separation anxiety,” which is code for “I also don’t want to shovel snow.”
I think Bill appreciates the help. I know I do. If I’m going to starve or go un-caffeinated, it’s much better to have an audience.