Ada Parker

Posted by Conrad Barman on June 19th, 2009 filed in Uncategorized

ADA PARKER
or
How I Learned to Love the Screwdriver

CATCH THE THRILL!
CATCH THE EXCITEMENT!
CATCH THE EMBARRASSMENT!

We begin in late June of ’01. Our friends shiver with excitement. Or perhaps heat stroke. They are leaving for Florida, the land of mysterious beginnings*.

Florida holds much promise and hope for these two. Nathaniel has only visited the state on a few occasions. By a few we mean three (3). He likes the place ok, but it’s no Texas. Of course, it is only a state. His female counterpart (we’ll call her Joy) is more than excited to return to Florida. You see, she is a native. Don’t hold it against her, for you will find that reflexive feeling of fear & shame at the thought of a Texan mingling with a Floridian is simply the product of your own ignorant prejudices. Settle down and read on.

They are on their way for a wedding; a wedding that will result in more than a few miracles, more than a few laughs, more than a few tears; a wedding that kicks a$$. They are on their way to their wedding.

These two have known each other for several years. When they first met it nearly came to fisticuffs. It ended with Nathaniel beating Joy down – but in a gentle manner. The boys won the game of dodgeball in a masterful fashion. The girls accepted their defeat with the dignity one would expect of a dog caught drinking toilet water. It was a beautiful night.

They kept in touch via the interwebs, and their relationship grew quickly, though often hindered by Nathaniel’s irrational fears and Joy’s confounding inability to understand the male mind (yes, yes, we ascribe to the theory that the male intellect does in fact exist). But in the end (which is our beginning) destiny would not be daunted. They fell in love and agreed to marry.

The pending plans to wed in Florida are the result of many months of planning. Blood sweat & tears. Happy times. Nervous times. Now the times are depending on the airline to do its thing.

They fly Southwest of course. Anything else would be uncivilized. Nathaniel, always the gentleman, allows Joy the option of taking a window seat. Joy, always the lady, takes it. Nathaniel gets the middle seat.
An old lady quickly snags the aisle seat. Our young lovers do not pay much attention – they are well versed with the unspoken American social standard of avoiding conversation with strangers who happen to be within arms’ reach, unless some uncontrollable incident happens and one is forced into politely uncomfortable grin-and-bear-it small talk (don’t forget The Rule applies to elevators, bathrooms and amusement park lines). Thus Joy & Nathaniel are content to speak only to each other. They are mere days from becoming newlyweds…….there is little hope of carrying on a decent conversation with anyone not name Joy or Nathaniel.

The flight will last approx. 2½ hours. But, in accordance with Einstein’s whole relativity thing, the time will not seem like 150 minutes. Nor the 9000 seconds it actually is. No, the sensation of time elapsing will vary – from slow as all get in to fast as all get out.

The first 20 minutes or so pass like any other flight to any other place: the initial garble over the plane’s speaker system from the all-too-desperate-for-human-contact captain; a sudden and unwelcome blast of air from the vent directly above; the occasional cough from somewhere in the back; the whine of engines starting. The plane slowly moves forward, jockeys into position and clears for takeoff. Joy grabs Nathaniel’s hand in one swift movement – as if she had been practicing all her life. Perhaps she had.

The details become fuzzy here – I think most everyone would agree the details are hard to remember whenever anyone finds themselves trapped in a conversation they don’t want to be a part of because some good ol’ boy breaks The Rule. But we know it happens. The old lady somehow initiates a conversation, whether it is to ask the standard question “Are you from _______?” (insert departure/arrival city), whether it is to state her own plans, or whether it is simply to ask for the Southwest magazine that someone inevitably takes (to the disappointment of many despite the imploring message on the cover “your complimentary copy”).

And so it begins.

Pending their opportunity to share the full nature of their plans, Nathaniel & Joy anticipate the inevitable: “yes, it’s wonderful we are going to be married in a few days’ time”, “yes we’re excited, yes we can’t believe it’s so soon, etc., etc.”. But they don’t have the chance. The old lady wants to talk about herself, and nothing could have prepared them for the conversational detour the old lady takes them down.

“I’m going to my sister’s funeral.”

This is the moment when the needle brings the record to a halt with a nasty screech. When the documentary editorial staff carefully rewinds the precious footage and plays back the statement over and over and over again; when the “pause” button is pressed so the test audience may have time to recover from the initial shock and nervous laughter.

Unfortunately, our young friends are granted no such grace period. This is real life people. Get used to it.

“My sister died recently. In the past couple years I’ve lost my husband of 50+ years, my other sister, a few other relatives……I’m going to lose my home unless I find a way to pay my bills.”

They smile and offer a valiant attempt at empathy, hoping the mood can somehow be salvaged. Imagine yourself trapped in an elevator on a hot day with a large man who hasn’t bathed in quite some time. You are close to understanding how these two feel.

The conversation stumbles along. By some miracle the old lady decides to ask a question not directly related to herself.

“Why are you two going to Florida?”

The elevator has been repaired.

In the midst of the following conversation names are exchanged. Nathaniel Gallagher. Joy Cunningham (soon to be Gallagher). And she is Ada Parker. Ada Parker. Remember this name kids – it will soon finds its place engraved in the annals of world history.

The young couple, however, is not allowed the generally understood freedom to share their story – Ada interrupts with happy tales of meeting her husband, their courtship, sharing the journey of life together. “Believe me kids, don’t ever go to bed angry. That was the one iron-clad rule we lived by – and we never failed to do it.”**

If you are reading this and are married, you know that no amount of advice can prepare you for the reality that awaits those engaged. If you are single, enjoy your ignorance. While marriage can and does offer bliss you don’t know exists, it also offers trials and tribulations you don’t know you are capable of withstanding.

As the conversation progresses the flight attendants make their eagerly anticipated rounds. You see, Joy and Nathaniel have brought coupons with them. Not silly discount coupons you cut out of the Sunday paper – these are drink coupons. Like children hungry for Halloween candy they clutch their coupons in a controlled frenzy. Alcohol is near.

Being the friendly and generous people they are the soon-to-be Gallaghers offer to “buy” Ada a drink. They have more than enough coupons to share (how cute their ignorance!) and it seems a nice gesture within the context of Ada’s sad stories.

“Well, I don’t drink.”

Ada’s response to their offer is taken graciously, if at all. Time must not be wasted when drink orders are asked for! Wine for Joy. Something red. Beer for Nathaniel. Heineken. (He has yet to discover Lone Star – much to our embarrassment.) They have no qualms about drinking in front of those who abstain. Nor do they have any reason to believe she is lying.

As the flight attendant hands the young couple their drinks, Ada decides to voice her order. Expecting a soda, juice or perhaps even tea, Joy & Nathaniel are as unprepared for her answer as a trusting grandchild is for the truth about his grandmother’s camel:

“I’ll have a vodka and orange juice.”

There is no time to react. They must stifle their laughs, swallow the alcohol in their mouths, try to breathe normally. No reason to be alarmed. Nothing to fear. Nowhere to go.

But let’s be honest – who would have expected sweet Ada to know how to order a screwdriver?

She accepts the can of Minute Maid orange juice and the small “trial size” bottle of generic vodka. At least the bottle is made of glass. She mixes her drink quite easily and engages in consumption almost as eagerly, but nearly as desperately, as the two stunned youngsters seated next to her.

Eventually conversation resumes. The discussion of marriage continues, and Ada is happy to give more advice. Perhaps happier. Note that neither Joy or Nathaniel noticed any hint of untruth in Ada’s voice when she told them she didn’t drink. Nor was their any detectable sarcasm when she ordered the cocktail. But now her inexperience with liquor begins to show. An 80something-year-old woman with white hair and pale skin is nothing unusual. But an old woman with white hair, a suddenly red face and a grin like the Grinch on Christmas morning is something to behold.

Planes are interesting. When you first board, your only thought is to get your seat. Some of you choose to stand in line at the gate hours before the plane even arrives to secure a choice location. Some of you choose to sit and laugh at these people. (We are members of the latter group.) Once on the plane and in your seat, you immediately do something to preoccupy yourself. Be it read a book or magazine you’ve brought, read the in-flight magazine provided, or pretend to sleep. But everyone does their very best to avoid acknowledging that you are about to be stuck violating the personal space of 100 or so total strangers for the next couple hours. We would all believe that our new neighbors simply do not exist.

The key to this fantasy is a limit of recognizable noise. The constant hum of the engines and whir of cabin pressurization limits the range of frequency picked up by your ears. Only the very low (engine rumble) or very high (screaming child) or very loud (captain’s loudspeaker drivel) can be heard.

Imagine if you will….Joy & Nathaniel’s flight has thus far proven to be enjoyable with regard to noise level. The captain is not the stereotypical lonely soul, perhaps even realizing his passengers really don’t care how fast or how high the plane is flying. There are no screaming children. The engines are working fine.

Now imagine this blessed “silence” shattered by the cackle of an old woman struggling with the one of the greatest ironies of life (death) while dipping a little too deep into a pool of alcohol.

“Cackle?” you may ask. Yes, alcohol releases inhibitions and often creates a general sense of giddiness, but is this enough to generate an eardrum shattering laughter? Surely there is a more tangible cause?

Indeed there is:
The conversation between the young couple and the suddenly born again Ada Parker has never departed from its course of armchair marriage counseling. From stories of wild dates and family budget crisis’, there is plenty of material to go around. Story after story follows advice ‘nugget’ after advice ‘nugget’.

Ada indicates to Joy she has something very important to share with her. Woman to woman. Girl talk.

Please remember poor Nathaniel, ever the gentleman, is seated between these two ladies. On an airplane there is simply nowhere to go. You, fair reader, can retreat within the confines of your own imagination as you read this – you aren’t there, stuck in that seat, sweating out the increasing craze of an old lady and her young protégé.

“I need to tell you something, and you must never forget it.”

Joy responds by leaning in a little closer.

Ada responds by moving in a little closer.

Nathaniel’s fear and discomfort begin to rage out of control.

“Men are like wild horses – YOU GOTTA RIDE ‘EM TILL YA TAME ‘EM!!!!”***

If there was ever a moment for an awkward silence, it is now. Unfortunately, as stated before, silence has been put to death by the fantastic cackle of our one and only Ada Parker.

“AAAAHHHH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!”

Were it not fair to the pursuit of truth, our story would be brought to an end right here. But truth cannot be suppressed. Nor can every detail of this adventure.

Once something resembling composure is regained by Ms. Parker, and after a short (relatively infinite) period of time passes, the call of Nature is to be heeded. She fumbles with her suddenly challenging seatbelt lock, struggles to her feet, and heads for the toilet.

Seizing the opportunity to discreetly curb his new friend’s binge, Nathaniel grabs what remains of Ada’s vodka and empties it into her can of orange juice. His hope is that he can prevent her from consuming any more liquor.****

As they wait for Ada’s inevitable return, Joy is called to Nature. And although the lease has expired on the beer Nathaniel rented, he is somehow spared the same need. Perhaps it is nerves. Perhaps it is sweat. Perhaps it is the realization that he is responsible for getting an old lady drunk, causing his normally automated bodily functions to shut down.

Without warning the flight attendant arrives. With her are a tray of drinks. Specifically, she presents to Nathaniel a glass of wine, a can of Heineken, and the necessary ingredients for another screwdriver.

He has no chance to process this new turn of events. He doesn’t feel he needs one. “Um, ma’am? I didn’t order this?”

“Oh, it’s taken care of. The woman seated here paid for them.”

Normally, when one kind gesture is replied with another, happiness is the end result. A general sense of neighborly friendship. But all Nathaniel can feel is fear. Already this poor woman has had too much alcohol for her frail body and thin blood. How to thwart this problem? There is no defined social protocol for such a situation. Perhaps you, kind reader, may have knowledge that can help our already fallen hero. But I doubt it.

Joy arrives. Upon sight of the drinks she reacts as any educated, experienced female would. She blames the man.

“Why did you order more drinks? What were you thinking?”

“I didn’t. It was her.”

The minor tiff and accompanying reflective pause allow for two important events to occur, almost simultaneously:
1) Ada returns, perhaps a little bit wobbly, but none the worse for wear.
2) Nathaniel completely forgets he emptied the remains of Ada’s first liquor bottle into the open can of orange juice.

Let the fun begin.

With a smile sly enough to get an 8 year old into a week’s worth of trouble, Ada requests personal drink service. “Pour me another one. And make it strong!”

Nathaniel, ever the gentleman, reacts quickly. Mixing the contents of the fresh bottle of vodka and the recently-spiked can of orange juice, he attempts to satisfy Ada’s demands while compensating for his own sense of guilt and fear.

Ada will not be daunted.

“More!” she cries as Nathaniel allows a mere drop to invade the plastic cup of ice and juice. “More!” she demands as his shaking hand somehow manages to continue. “More!” she pleads like a desert wanderer accepting his first glass of water in days.

Nathaniel complies, rationalizing silently to himself lame attempts to dodge his newfound responsibility. “Nobody asked me to take care of her. I can’t tell her what to do. Maybe if I pour slow enough she’ll lose patience and take it with less vodka.”

If his conscience could take physical form, no doubt she’d be bent over the seat in front of him, yelling shrilly “You fool! That’s already twice as much vodka as her first drink! The orange juice is spiked! She’s gonna be shitfaced before we hit the Gulf!”

Returning to his suddenly weak beer, the three companions raise their glasses in a silent toast.

The momentary pause is broken by Ada’s tender voice.

“I need to tell you something, and don’t you forget it.”

“Oh dear God” thinks Nathaniel.

“No way” thinks Joy.

“Men are like wild horses” cries Ada, “you gotta ride ‘em till ya tame ‘em!”

It would be kind to end the story here. Let the reader laugh a little. Enjoy the comically repeated advice given by a grieving old lady. Wish the best for our young couple. But history is never kind, and the truth cares nothing at all for our best.

However, some of the positive details of our story should be noted. The conversation is surprisingly light and enjoyable. Nathaniel and Joy, after 2 beers and 2 glasses of wine respectively, are not quite as tense. The worries of the world seem so light up in the clouds.

“I don’t have much family around anymore” reveals Ada. “The relatives picking me up at the airport are distant – I don’t know them very well. Don’t let them know I’ve been drinking. They’re church people.”

Our heroes smile at the irony. They too are “church people”, though perhaps not quite the kind Ada has in mind. They agree to remain silent. “I’ll tell them it’s my medicine.”

The plane begins its final descent to Tampa. The usual preparations follow – gathering belongings, putting shoes back on, stuffing leftover trash between the seats, coughs and creaks and the terrible grinding of the landing gear being deployed.

Joy grabs Nathaniel’s hand in one swift movement – as if she had been practicing all her life. Or at least on the flight here.

The plane lands. Ada is gracious enough to allow Joy & Nathaniel out of their seats immediately; too proud to accept help from these youngsters, she takes time to gather her belongings.

The young couple proceeds out of the plane and up the ramp towards the terminal. They are followed by the sounds of what is obviously someone struggling with their belongings. Obviously.

A quick glance behind them reveals the inconvenient truth: Mrs. Parker is d-r-u-n-k. Druuuhhhh-unk. Her bags could be a combined weight of 4oz. and the walls would still be abused by her stumbling mass.

Horrified, our tagonists (we are still undecided if they are pro or an) turn and increase their pace. Of course they aren’t going to offer the old woman help….to do so would force them to admit their guilt. Do YOU know what the prison sentence is for getting a grieving old widow pissed?

Believing all will be well once they are in the hands of her parents and ferried off to her hometown, Joy & Nathaniel rush through the gate doors and head towards familiar faces. Hugs are hugged. Smiles are smiled. Obligatory questions are asked: “How was the flight? Everything go ok? It’s good to see you?”
A comfortable hum settles into place as more passengers deplane and encounter waiting loved ones. Faces once familiar on the plane are lost in the midst of the growing crowd. Temporary acquaintances are returning to their rightful place as strangers. Perhaps, just perhaps, our young friends can forget about the as yet undiscovered corrupting of a helpless old lady…

…the end of our story is upon us?

“I’VE BEEN DRINKING VODKA!!!!!”

The silence is deafening. Have you ever wanted to run and scream and cry and laugh and throw up and shout and hold your breath at the same time? Then you know exactly how Nathaniel feels. If you typically just laugh at any situation life throws at you, you can laugh with Joy.

When the dust has settled, the awkwardness never fully dissipated, the discomfort unending, we find our young friends on the road to their own private future. They somehow managed to engage in mild conversation with Ada’s relatives…she is invited to the wedding (though she never showed) and softly fades into the happy recesses of their collective memories. They think of her occasionally, with fondness.

*If you ever pay attention to the news, you know what I’m talking about.  If not, start keeping a tally of all the strange and bizarre events recorded by media moguls. You will find that at least 90% of all these stories originate in either Florida or Germany. And Germans love David Hasselhoff

**Bad advice. Seriously – next time you find yourself in a fight with your spouse/lover/bff after a long day and right before bedtime, try sleeping it off. If, in the morning, you can even remember what you were so angry about, you’ll be in a much better place to talk about it like civilized people.

***Good advice

****Obviously he failed, miserably.