When I was about 15 my Mom decided to throw a New Year's Eve party for some of her friends from the hospital where she worked as a nurse. It was basically a small gathering, maybe ten people, plus myself and my two younger sisters. Mom made snacks and provided beer and soda to drink. It looked like it was going to be a nice little party. One woman was invited who brought her husband along. The guy was middle aged, small and wiry, and I noticed he had a crooked mouth, because whenever he spoke he talked through one side of his mouth. I detected from his speech that he was a native of Brooklyn and didn't talk the way we did up here in Upstate New York. He thought he was the life of the party, and he began to fill up on cans of beer. When he had a bit of a snootful he began to annoy the guests, mostly the ladies, by insulting them in various ways, from their appearance to their attitude. It was obvious that the ladies were annoyed by this little guy, because they would give him this ticked-off glance. He had a standard remark for this. “Watsa matta? Yuh goidle too tight?” he quipped, then laughed uproariously at his own witticism through the side of his mouth, and jerked his head around to see if the others were laughing. They weren't! His wife was dying of embarrassment, and whenever he said something annoying she slapped him on the arm or ribs with a very angry look on her face. “Watsa matta? Yuh goidle too tight?” came his worn reply. Now my Mom did wear a girdle, and I was hoping he would not refer to it during what was his idea of a joke. I was afraid I would forget my place as a young teenager and tell him a few choice words!
When my Mom went into the kitchen to fetch some hot dogs in blankets from the oven I followed her in. I said in a loud whisper, “Mom! Who is that—that obnoxious jackass?!” Mom sighed, “I'm friends with his wife Janet. When I invited her I had to invite him too.” "Well,” I said, “I don't mind telling you he's a real jerk!” I brought the biscuit-wrapped hot dogs into the living room for Mom, and I hoped the obnoxious guest would not say anything that would start a fight and ruin the party. I dreaded to see what he would be like at midnight when we rang in the new year. After a few more remarks about the ladies' girdles being too tight I didn't hear a sound coming from his crooked mouth. He had apparently consumed too much Genesee beer and had fallen asleep on the couch, where he snored loudly. The rest of us watched the ball drop on tv, broadcast from Times Square, and we all wished each other a Happy New Year. After that the guests began to leave. Janet roused her sleeping husband and told him it was time to go. He staggered into the car, and she drove him home. That was the last I ever saw of him, thank goodness. Poor Janet must have apologized profusely to Mom when they went back to work. I know I would have hidden my face in shame!
