Act 1, Scene 11: “Wasting Away In…”

TRL and S have received dozens of warm welcomes from fine services all around SB. Ten percent off any new rugs from Rugs! Rugs! Rugs! A free toilet evaluation from Bob’s Plumbing. Coupons for a back consultation at SB Chiropractory.

Their trees can be checked out for dry rot, fungal invasion, ant attack, dead branches and general unsightliness by OK Tree Pruning.

A lovely welcome gift is waiting for them at Nina’s Cards n’ Knickknacks.

They can rent a carpet cleaner for the new home owners discount price at the local Stop & Shop.

Today, TRL picked out a postcard from the usual collection of coupon mailers and bills.

Congratulations on your new home. Wow! Now for the party…

A party, of course, they had to have a party, thinks TRL. How socially awkward that they had not yet had a neighborhood party.

Just call the ‘Margarita Man’ and you’re ready for some fun.

TRL sure was. He flipped the card. There was the Margarita Man, or at least a lovely cartoon facsimile, smiling at him, serving up a big ole supersized margarita in a classy bowl glass, two straws (perfect for the husband and wife), lime garnish and a salt shaker. A Panama hat and red collared shirt with the sleeves cut off completed the promise of a margarita inspired vacation from the comfort of one’s own new home purchase.

TRL flipped the card again.

$150 rental includes machine, free cups, salt rimmer, and your first half-gallon of mix (makes 70 drinks).

Well, this is a keeper, thinks TRL. He could be the toast of the neighborhood. Or at least extremely fucked up in his own basement, a suburban tragedy shitting himself, bumping into walls, staying underground for days.

Or he could just buy the tequila, forgo the frozen ice machine, margarita mix and salt rimmer (this was something he felt was more appropriate at a bar in the Castro), and be his very own Tequila Man. Maybe he would surprise S with a Panama hat. The mail had finally delivered.