Today is Sunday- it is also mother's day night

I just returned from a Mother's day dinner.
Giorgio Roberti, Zachary Childress and I took out Jennifer Palson and her mother Francis Palson.
We had indian food- the good place near the cheap gas and hardware store where the weird old guy, who has a strange penchant for touching children's cheeks, stands over you and clicks his tongue while you eat; not the bad place where the owner got arrested for embezzlement and which has a great view and a decent wine list- I am not a big fan of Indian food and wine, and I think views are a bit pedestrian and are meant for naive lovers and un-educated tourists.
Wow, the booze is starting to talk a bit now.
I need to focus.

I have known Giorgio for at least 15 years; I met Zachary when I first moved back here; and Jennifer and I 'dated' for several years. I would guess that Jennifer is 'dating' both Giorgio and Zach right now. While, Francis has been a 'mother' to us for all the holidays, birthdays and other nonsense that people need to go through.
I look to Francis for purely geographic and emotional reasons- my mother is down south (which is good) and she is a crazy old bitch (which was funny in my twenties, but is now, in my thirties, sad).
Giorgio's mother died about 10 years ago from an awful argument with cancer- cancer wanted her breasts, and so did his mother (I think Giorgio's father went a little 'old school' and made his mother argue with cancer.)
Cancer won the argument.
Giorgio's father has a new wife.
He, Giorgio's father, did grieve for almost a year, though.
Zachary is adopted. He doesn't speak of his adoptive parents and has no desire to know his genetic parents.

We had Pakoras, Samosas, Chana, Palak Paneer, cauliflower dish (I can't remember the name right now), naan, and of course Taj Mahals- Zachary had King Fishers- he said I wouldn't/ couldn't understand.

When we were leaving there was that awful awkwardness of yearning between strangers. Jennifer wanted to stay out longer with one of us, but I could tell she didn't want to send mixed messages. So I said goodbye and left them.
When I backed out of my space, I almost got rear ended.

I need a cigarette, but I quit smoking.
I need more to drink, and my choices are: Grey Goose (chilled), Pappy Van Winkle, and some shitty Longboard Island Lager (which has been in the fridge for sometime; somebody brought it over once. It is there for emergencies only.)

I am a bit drunk.
Just enough to think about Mother's day, but not enough to cease the thoughts about my mother that are making me grit my teeth.

I am going into the storage room to dig through my boxes. I want to look at Lili's photos side-by-side. If I find an old roach, I will smoke it, otherwise, those Longboards have spent their last day in my fridge.


Xioba