Queer Christmas

Reads: 484  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 4

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic

A recount of a friends family I passed the past fall

As I sat down to the table I slowly strained the events of what had happened throughout the night. When Colin had invited me back for the holidays, the time that I forsaw here is a far cry from what I have witnessed. It started out casually, like the first day of class almost. Introduction passed by with a hint of formality in an undertone of dignified individuals. First came his parents, wonderful people as far as I can tell. They greeted me with that sense of uncertainty, you know when like people are smiling, but you can tell that their scanning over you for all your little mistakes and faults; my meeting was a little like that. Apparently Colin has had some troubles in the past with dealing with a brief stint of alcoholism, and a bit pitchy patchy over some drugs over his years. I suppose that if I was a parent I might do the same. The next pair ensnared us as we seemed to fall into the two grandmother’s way. They were completely different from one another, yet they seemed to somehow come together quite well. The first to introduce themselves to me was Colin’s Mother’s mom. Her accent almost too thick, like a piece of stake carved by a 10 year old at the holiday meal. She greeted me with a kiss on the cheek, a little startled by this I almost tripped on noise as it continued to echo in my ears. But this woman had a heart of gold and annoyance, the woman never stopped offering me food. While I might not eat ridiculous amounts of food a day, I made a bet with Colin that I could hold my own against him. He put me to the test, his grandmother had made some extra Jell-O for the holidays, and this was the contest. First one of us to finish the Jell-O plate clean wins and pays for the next round at the bar. Obviously I lost the bet, and am consequently 20 dollars shorter then I used to be. But the next grandmother was his dad’s mother. I swear to god that this woman must be so high in the clouds I don’t know how she is able to breathe. We waltz into her bedroom to say hello, and while I am scanning the room for little embarrassing pictures of Colin, my eyes are drawn to his grandmother’s Trunk. While it stood in its grandiour of Louis Vuitton elegance, the drawers must have been filled with over hundreds of dollars in medications. The only comparison to what I saw might be a drug store itself. I glanced at the nightstand, and a bottle lay on it with pills scattered in every which direction. As she popped another three, which seemed to be from the best of my assumptions, quite a heavy dose of Vicadin. She offered Colin and I one, while struggling with myself I finally gave into to Colin’s pestering taunts. We each popped two and went on our way. While I would like to go into excruciating detail about all the other peculiar individuals that I happened to run into at the holiday, I think it might be time to eat. Colin and I struggled to get our selves up and going to the dinning hall. The only thing that I might accredit this fatigue that had over come us both like a dark cloud on a Saturday, was the Vicadin we had taken earlier. Just for kicks we decided to have a bit of a slap boxing match before leaving for dinner. Needless to say that our faces were as red as the cherries that hung from the trees, that hung back at home. But as the saying always goes, No harm then No foul. As far as Colin and I could tell we felt no harm at the moment anyway. Dinner was wonderful; the smells that quaffed into the dinning hall were almost enough to fill my stomach right there. But trays of Crown Roasts were dazzling in front of me. Accompanied by a rustic gravy and a scrumptious looking cranberry spread. The arrangement that sat in front of me at the table almost looked too good to be real. I began to imagine if all that I had seen and heard was real, but was it? Could I not feel the slaps of Colin’s hands because I was too drugged on Vicadin, or was it because I was not even there? The notion of time seemed to be so in sequential at that moment, how long had I even been here? As far as I could tell, I had only been at this peculiar residence for a minute or two, but too much had happened hadn’t it? With a suddenly nudge at my left Colin pocked at me to pass the salad. I obliged, and went for the bowl but as I was bringing it back I lost my grip and dropped the bowl. I was ready with my apology before the bowl even hit, but a hand shot out and saved it, I looked up but o stare into the eyes of former World Series winner Joe Crede. I was astonished, as he gave me a wink and passed me the bowl again. I slowly turned to Colin and asked if my eyes had deceived me, he laughed a little and said of course not. Joe had apparently been seeing Colin’s older cousin for some time now, and had just failed to mention it to me. Dinner seemed to go flawlessly after that, and that continued into the Holiday. But while I might not have used the words splendid, I think the more appropriate word to describe it would be Queer.

Submitted: June 09, 2009

© Copyright 2022 Oakley Krueger. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:


candie c land

...woah. I'd just like to say that I REALLY loved this. You have quite the vocabulary, and I'm sucker for dysfunctional families- you pretty much roped me in at the get go; the only thing that bothered me was probably the lack of backstory... other that, it was great. PLEASE write more! You're very talented dude : )

Wed, August 12th, 2009 11:22pm


I really liked your language in this. You should try to make seperate paragraphs because truthfully I got a bit lost.
I do like your writing and I can appreciate proper language and an extensive vocabulary. Keep working!

Thu, December 10th, 2009 11:02pm


A little too much formal writing for such a casual event. Nice vocab though :)

Fri, July 9th, 2010 4:44pm

Boron Von Twiddle

I like it! Paragraphs would be nice, but I like it nonetheless!

Sat, July 16th, 2011 5:11am

Facebook Comments

More Memoir Short Stories

Other Content by Oakley Krueger

Short Story / Memoir