Dog Eat Dog Consumerism

Last Sunday, my cousin Chelsea threw a puppy shower. I have never heard of a puppy shower, but in our brave new world, dogs are the new babies, right? Children are eaten in Washington; dogs are showered with gifts in Minneapolis. This makes sense amidst the mindless, amphetamine-fueled consumer culture of 2006.

But for some of us, it doesn’t. For some of us, a puppy shower is where we draw the line. And this puppy shower would wind up a howling mess of salty tears and broken glass.

At 3 pm, my sister called and asked, “Hey, are you coming over here?”

I said, “Yeah, I think so. On my way.”

“Well, don’t bother. I got into a fight.”

“At a puppy shower? Really?”

“I’m coming over. I’ll tell you about it.”

The version I was able to piece together goes like this: my sister and my dad were sitting in the living room with my cousin April and her husband and all these other people that work as public school teachers. My dad thought it was a good opportunity to wonder aloud why school teachers have a union because aren’t they government employees anyway? So this militant 40-year-old government geography instructor becomes very agitated by this line of reasoning. She’s been drinking (and who knows how many anti psychotics she’s on) and she steps to my dad and starts calling him names–“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about…you don’t know anything about teachers!” My dad was holding my 14 month-old nephew so my sister gets up and asks everybody to chill out. It’s just a conversation.

Then the woman made a terrible mistake. She slapped Megan. A little background: My sister isn’t a biker chick. She’s 5’8”, with an athletic build, but she’s always been a very girly-girl. She has hair extensions. And her nails are done. And she was wearing a pink tracksuit. But when it comes to her US Weekly-christened child, Megan is Tyler Durden. Megan is The Bride.

She went postal. She grabbed the woman by the head and used some Jean Claude Van Damme move that my brother taught her and broke this poor woman’s nose. How beautiful, a mother’s protective instinct. Jeez.

Chelsea took the drunk teacher’s side and kicked my sister out (this woman was a) Chelsea’s fiancé’s sister and b) still bleeding, so Chelsea didn’t have much of a choice really). Megan, my dad, my mom and Ashton were forced to flee to my apartment.

After my sister recounted the entire story, my mom was sitting on my couch, kind of anxiously, with her hands in her lap. She sighed one of those small Catholic sighs of hers and said, “Well, I don’t know what this is going to mean for Thanksgiving and
Christmas.”

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10 Responses

  1. Ten kudos.

  2. Wow. I had the shit beat out of me at a dog run once, but I never imagined a puppy shower could be so much fun.

  3. Whoa.

    I think I need to get to know you better.

  4. The miracle of this particular episode of white trash theater is that Kevin wasn’t there. If he was, we all know a few of the Marsh’s would have spent the night in the cooler. And was Pete trashed while he was holding Ashton and ridiculing some poor, trashed geoghraphy teacher? That kid doesn’t have a chance. I’ll pray for your mom.

  5. Ain’t that america. where I come from it’s not a “Puppy Shower”, but rather a “Bark Mitzvah”

  6. By the way.. I had a great time the other night. Thanks again… I’ve never enjoyed a clobbering so much. ;-)

  7. I love Catholics.

  8. God I love your mom!!!

  9. My skillz in street fighting are undeniably strong for a young man. My siss is strength in the hood.

  10. Holy crap, this is an outstanding story. I once went to a First Birthday party for a dog.

    And g rote should be ashamed. Bark Mitzvah.

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