I have one sister-in-law. I have one brother-in-law married to that
sister-in-law. My husband and I are not accustomed to going out on double dates with his sister and her husband very often, but one Thanksgiving night we did.
It started out innocently enough as a group meeting of friends down on the Plaza for some drinks. But, as parties do, this one wound down to just a few stragglers - them, us, and a new couple we had met once before through my hubby's work. We were trying to woo them into the folds of our party group. The new couple was excited about their new house and wanted to show it off. They asked if we wanted to continue drinking there instead. We were crowded out at the bar, so we heartily agreed!
Once the six of us walked through the doors of their lovely new home, Mike and Kelly gave us a tour-de-jour. Mike was redoing the upstairs bathroom; it had been stripped to plywood floors and still needed new tiles in the bathtub area. He showed us the new sink he installed, but he jokingly pointed out that the new toilet was still unattached. "See,” he said, “the hole is over there! The toilet has no outlet yet. Please don't use it! We thought about putting a hazard tape across the seat as a joke, but it was just us two, ya know?"
I think then it was my husband who made a joke that it would be really bad if a hung-over Mike got up in the night and sleepily peed in it, or worse, threw up in it. The six of us had a hearty drunken laugh and moved along on the tour.
Meanwhile, my sister-in-law's husband started flirting with me.
Heavily.
He kissed me while we were on the couch, hard and on the lips, and hung all over me. He was a bit scary and I couldn't easily get away from him. I tried to blow off the advances and chalk them up to an alcohol syndrome, so I wasn't offended or freaked out. The only problem was that I was afraid my sister-in-law would blame me yell at me for his advances; she's an extremely jealous person. I instead responded by clinging that much closer to my husband for the rest of the evening.
We all laughed and cavorted for awhile longer until it was apparent that our drunken sailor could no longer play well in the sand box. He misbehaved once too much, his slur became too thick, and he wasn't
making much sense. It took most of us to escort him to the door and
into the passenger seat of their car. He chattered the whole way, "I'm jush fiyne. Letsh drink shumoor! Merry Chrishmash! Love yore housh!"
The next morning my husband and I got a telephone call from Mike. Sometime during the previous evening Kelly was victim to the Drunken Sailor advances too. Mike said that Kelly was very, very upset. He informed us that not only did this guy kiss his newlywed and treat their dogs very badly, but he also peed and pooed in the not-yet-hooked-up toilet in the upstairs bathroom.
We never heard from Kelly and Mike again.
