Side-Talks With Girls
And now, direct from 1897, it’s time for…
Today’s missive comes from Barry.
Dear Ruth,
I was at a dinner party several evenings ago and found myself in quite a pickle. It is my fervent hope that you may enlighten me as to proper etiquette in this situation to prevent embarrassment should it arise again.
Things were proceeding swimmingly. Conversation was sparkling, and the first five courses of pork and cabbage were delightful. However, nature called and I excused myself down the hall to my hostess’s newfangled indoor flush commode to make a “social call.”
It was quite the novelty, and as I was unfamiliar with its proper operation, I believe perhaps I used a few too many pages from the Sears catalog. A swirling mass of paper, water, and half-digested cabbage slowly began to rise in the bowl and spill onto the floor.
Aghast, I began to search through the appliances in the bathroom for something with which to stop the effluvium and inadvertently knocked over a large bottle of laudanum. At that moment, the hostess’ cat arrived and began to lick up the puddle of intoxicating fluid. As the inebriated feline began to weave and stagger through the overflow, I decided perhaps it was time to beat a hasty retreat.
My question is this: what was the proper form to observe when making my farewells?
Your servant,
Barry
Thanks, Ruth! See you tomorrow!
Oh he left a card alright!
Yeah, I went there. AND I’M NOT ASHAMED.
…much.
(Also, half-digested cabbage? Eww.)
Nice one!