A RENOVATION INSTEAD OF INTERVENTION
Vasilika Vanya Marinkovic / Secret World Entertainment ©
Craig Buttress was twenty-two, tall, slim-set, trendy, moody and an unabridged alcoholic.
Since he was fourteen, he’d been the culprit of almost eight car wrecks-one almost fatal-with a mother and infant son and the most recent having put Craig in the hospital for nearly a month. He’d dislocated his shoulder, bruised his entire body and lost a good deal of blood from a wound to his pelvis.
Not only this, but he’d bruised his spine, leaving him immobile for nearly two weeks.
Reluctantly people and his family of two sisters and mom and dad had visited him in the hospital. You could tell everyone was angry, but not voicing it at the time due in large part to his serious injuries.
In about a month’s time, Craig was decently healed up. And even though the doctor recommended another month off work, Craig never liked to sit around at home. He could drink alone, but usually enjoyed doing it with others. And he was looking forward to getting back to work, because most of his co-workers were major drinking buddies and Craig was the highest tip earner-usually.
So it came to pass that his mother Renee, father Bob, older sister Eileen, girlfriend Trudy, and two buddies Ralph and Jack all showed up to have dinner together at the restaurant that Craig waited tables at; La Bella de Italiano, which was one of the finest dining establishments in Chicago.
Ten minutes after the group had been seated, Craig suspiciously approached the table. One of his co-workers, a waitress named Julie had been attending them. She was brand spanking new-basically hired while his ass was in the hospital. And Craig did not like her. His family members, girlfriend and buddies already had appetizers and drinks all around. And many were already buzzed.
“What the heck is going on here? You guys don’t normally all hang out with each other? What the hell? And Dad, are you like getting your buzz on?”
“Waiter,” chirped a customer, trying to get Craig’s attention.
“Ugh”, sneered Craig, hearing his table across the way. They had a lot of nerve. “Hold that thought Dad. And hold his oncoming drinks dick.”
This he said to Julie as she approached the groups table with another round.
“Hey! You’re the dick-dick!” She bit back.
“Hey, were’ trying to eat here-people!” complained a dining man nearby.
“Yeah, let’s just hope that’s not on the menu” snipped his dining partner, a ravishing blonde he’d gotten to see on their second date.
And suddenly the guys face showed rage as he looked from her, to the menu and than back out toward the departing Craig who was now reluctantly attending to his beckoning diner. Cockblocker. Bitch.
In a couple of beats, Craig was back at Julies table, scoffing at his buddy Ralph. He could understand the girlfriend Trudy-bitch, his sister and parents, but not his best friend from diapers. Jack, he’d known for a handful of years and was certain the guy had just tagged along tonight to get wasted.
“Oh honey, you shouldn’t be working so soon after your terrible car accident.”
Craig ignored his mother’s statement. It was pointless reminiscing. And he’d been so drunk during the event, he hadn’t felt any pain anyway. During his month in the hospital he’d also been on a huge regimen of pain killers and only felt good-no pain. And right now, Craig was trying to cover up his rage; why the hell was his entire family, girlfriend and best buddies there-WTF?
“Anyway, what’s up people? Hey, Dad… how many drinks have you had?”
“This is just my third beer” said Ralph, who sounded just a tad slurry.
“I was talking to my Dad-Ralph, can’t believe you’re here too! Well, how many drinks Dad Duetsche?”
Julie was setting down yet another round of drinks and trying hard to ignore the butting in Craig, even though-truth be told-the group-was here for him.
“It doesn’t matter how many drinks I’ve had” stammered Craig’s father Bob.
Sitting at the edge of the booth, he found it convenient to now stand, although he was now even more obviously drunk.
“You have a major problem and we are here today to do something about it-namely-to get you-
Bob went through a spurt of hacking and then resumed his drunken speech.
“You got a problem and we’re here to do a renovation -buddy-cause you got to stop your drinking and abuse of alcoholic beverages.”
“I only had one beer yesterday-and haven’t had anything today cheese dick!” yelled Craig. “And don’t you mean intervention-not renovation? You’re a retarded drunk Dad.”
Craig pounded away toward the kitchen.
Bob belched real loud and threw his half empty glass toward his son’s head, nearly missing him. Instead it went into the dining couple’s appetizer. At this point, Craig conveniently disappeared into the kitchen summoning entrees for the table he was attending to across the way.
“Manager! Manager!” yelped the man on the date, as the beautiful voluptuous blonde angrily stood up. Then she got her phone out and started texting, social media, whatever the heck.
“Manager! We need your help right away! We need to get this drunk out of here and be reimbursed for our meal” the not getting lucky tonight man said, in a clipped tone as a timid female manager approached.
“You know what Dad. You need to go to AA or something” bitched Craig, who’d just approached with a tray of waters. He began to set them down at the next table. The new group of four stared quizzically, understanding the banter was between their waiter and the next table.
“Boy, you’re in for a renovation!” cried Bob and then Craig’s girlfriend Trudy got up from her seat.
The manager eyed Craig and his family/friends warily and then addressed the complaining diner.
“I’m sorry folks, how can I help you?” asked the manager quietly.
“I said, you can get this drunk out of here and reimburse us for our meals”. The man on the date restated angrily. Things were getting to a point and Craig didn’t even notice Julie slyly easing in on his new group of four. She was taking their order.
“He’s right you know” said Trudy, ignoring the growing altercation in the next booth, after all-their mission-saving Craig was the task at hand.
“We need to get this-
Father Bob broke in and Trudy began to cry loudly. “We need to get this drunk-
The angry guy at the next table wore a smug look. Didn’t these idiots realize the bigger problem presently was the Dad-not the son.
“We need to get Craig out of here and into rehab. It is time for a – a- renovation. We are gathered here today- for a renovation.”
“INTERVENTION IDIOTS!” cried the man on the date-that was slowly disintegrating. He sat back down, resigned and snapping his fingers for a stiff one. Julie took the order. The voluptuous blonde rolled her eyes and continued with her phone activity.
“That’s right idiots, it’s an intervention, not a renovation. Intervention, idiots!” griped Craig, perturbed now, that every diner in the establishment was now appraising the situation. And Maria stood by-not being of any help at all.
“What are you doing?” questioned the guy on the date, for his lady friend was still apparently buried in her phone.
“I like that.” Said Craig’s sister, Eileen, “instead of AA-there’s an II-Intervention Idiots”.
“You’re doing your social networking while you’re on a date with me?” cried the now even angrier man on the date. And the timid manager Maria stepped back. She motioned for the on looking host to get some help-namely a higher up manager.
“No, no, I’m just telling them about this scene here” quipped the ravishing blonde.
“Telling who?” questioned the man, anger only too obvious.
“Craig, you are drinking way too much and I’m getting-tired-tired of all the accidents, the –the crabby hangovers you have-the flakiness. I think you’re leading into a path of destruction” sobbed Trudy.
The man on the date slammed his napkin down. “Well I hope you enjoy your date-with everyone lady. Hope they all give you a good time to. Maybe you can settle the dispute with the managers over our f-d up meal. Or maybe you can tell everybody online, get it solved that way.”
The man got up to leave, making his way toward the exit.
“Excuse me!” cried the woman, looking up from her phone as a couple of managers were now at the scene.
“You can consider us over Trudy” bitched Craig. “After making a scene like this-in public-at my job-
“Oh my God, you prefer alcohol over me!” shrieked Trudy who started to bawl.
“I’ m sorry everyone. Please go back to your meals.” Said a male manager who was tall and square jawed. “Everyone will get free drinks due to this inconvenience.”
Julie began to make her way around tables to get drink orders.
“Thank God for that!” bellowed Bob. There is a silver lining to the tunnel! We can get out of this renovation-intervention-cause you guys are inventing more drinks!” cheered father Bob, excitedly.
A couple more waiters were approaching taking peoples drink orders and Bob snapped his fingers for one to get on over to their table quickly.
“Craig, we need to talk with you-right away” said the male manager.
“Oh no! You people came here for my renovation” he said with dripping sarcasm in his voice- “and it might cost me my job! Suck you guys!”
Craig flung his tray like a frisbee, with it smacking the departing dateless man in the head. He’d made the grave mistake of stopping by the mint tray. Grabbing his head, he headed angrily back to the scene.
“What the hell people? I’m going to sue your asses off!”
At this point though, many people-not just the main group, were buzzed, due to free drinks and whatever they’d had to begin with. People were snickering, growing to enjoy the scene.
The outraged man clutched at his head. The blonde woman, still on her phone, was holding the guy’s wallet with her other hand. She waved it like a flag. “You forgot something, and I told everyone I ended up with an extra hundred dollars tonight.”
“You hooker! And you’re dead!” he pointed at Craig suddenly charging at the soon-to be jobless waiter. The two went down and Trudy jumped on the dateless man’s shoulders. He flung her back at Bob and companies table and Bob yelled that his drink was destroyed.
And the man was up angrily flailing around for more, causing the brawl to flair out-and then the fight eventually began to involve the entire restaurant.
“Now that’s a renovation!” cried Eileen as she crouched under her table, next to the dateless woman who still busily worked her phone, filmed, texted, filmed. She was an addict herself.
“That’s a renovation!” reiterated Eileen.
“How do you spell that?” asked the blonde woman.