The days crawled by. I saw just about everybody on the list in September, individually or in small groups. But it proved impossible to find an occasion when all 11 of us were free.
Finally, Thanksgiving weekend loomed. Leo and I both skipped off that Friday. We packed our overnight bags and the costumes in the backseat, along with some food supplies Teresa had asked us to pick up.
Then we went shopping for the booze. Everybody had given us their requests. We got six cases of beer (two-fours, in Canadian slang), and three cases of wine. I wasn’t sure that we had enough wine. Then we added a case of liquor. Most of it was rum, or flavoured rum, but there was also vodka, tequila, scotch, and even a bottle of peppermint schnapps (Leo was on a schnapps kick).
– “Schnapps?” I asked him. “For pirates?”
– “It won’t go to waste.” he said. “Just imagine that we’re sailing past some German island.”
As you can probably guess, geography and history weren’t Leo’s strong suits.
– “You psyched?” he asked me.
– “Just a little.” I admitted.
While he was rearranging things in the backseat, I saw that Leo had packed a box of 12 condoms in his overnight bag.
– “Somebody’s optimistic.” I commented.
– “Hey – Be Prepared. That’s my motto.”
– “You have about 100 mottos, Leo.” I said.
– “You can never have enough mottos.” he replied.
– “That’s 101.”
I didn’t kid him too much about the condoms. After all, I had packed a dozen of my own. I was hoping for an epic weekend, too.
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