Iowa Barbeque

I've had a nasty cold ever since I gave an old college try at alcoholism at last week's Colorodo versus Colorado State football game. That didn't stop my wife from guilting me into attending what has become a quarterly dinner party her friends from work throw. This evening was hosted by a couple we've known for a while, and billed as an "Iowa BBQ" on the Evite. Apart from the cold, I wasn't too thrilled to go to the event because I've never really been fond of this couple. The wife, Allison, is a bit obnoxious with her loud nasal voice, and the husband, Josh, can be best described as an "asshole". Pardon my french. Alas, I had to go because my wife had to go. And my wife had to go, because some good friends of ours had to go. Such is the domino effect of relationships in the world of adult couples. That, and having to send out invitations and thank you notes to facilitate eating food or watching television together are sadly the norm.

When we showed up to the barbeque, about half of the twelve expected attendees had arrived. After being called a "pussy" for not drinking beer at a party when I shouldn't have even been out of pajamas and kleenex's, I settled in on the couch with my water to check out the Nebraska versus USC game. The ladies all gathered in the kitchen, as is the custom, and surely spoke of all the ills generated by their husbands. Meanwhile, I had a spirited discussion with the guys over whether or not professional athletes deserve exorbitant sums for their services, which drifted to social responsibility for poverty, and oddly to whether or not going to war in Iraq was a good idea.

A solid spread for dinner was provided, including burgers, chicken, salmon, corn, and macaroni salad. I used a story a guest told about his toils working at McDonalds to start a round-table discussion on "the worst job you've ever had". Apparently he was forced to compete in a grill-cleaning competition, from which he came away with a less than prized trophy. It was actually a lot of fun. The male host took the cake with his job at a meat-packing plant. Of course, he relished providing the details of his chitlin processing experience as we ate.

But I didn't write this post to give you a bad three paragraph episode of "Thirty Something". That was way too boring in it's first and second iterations (yes, "The Big Chill" sucked). When brownies and cake had been enjoyed by all, and the party was seemingly coming to a close, was when this story took a turn for the awkward. For, apparently there is more to an Iowa barbeque than good food and good drink.

Breaking up the small talk that had developed around the dinner table, Josh and Allison walked around making sure that each glass was full. The effect was such that a toast seemed to be in the works. Sure enough, Allison took a nervous stance in front of the counter, and was joined by her husband Josh as she started out with, "Okay, everyone, Josh and I have an announcement to make...". You could feel the anticipation in the audience. From roughly age 23 to 35, such moments are common, those ages being years of engagement, matrimony, and, of course, pregnancy. And that is the exact logical progression you could see wending its way through each person's mind, as the opening comments of the announcement were made:

They were already married, so an engagement was obviously not in play. So it must be she's pregnant. But wait, Allison's holding a glass of wine. Wow, if she's not prego, what the hell could this be all about? They did call this an Iowa bbq, and they are head to toe adorned in Iowa Hawkeyes paraphenalia. That must be it.

"Josh and I have been thinking about this for a while now, and...". If I had been friends with this couple, the suspense would have been killing me by now, but instead I thought, "Okay, so they're moving to Iowa. I guess I don't have to come to another one of these damn bbqs again. Sweet. I wonder if I can get home early enough to watch the late Sportscenter?". I suppose many there thought differently, and did have a little imaginary drum-roll humming at this point.

"Josh and I have been thinking about this for a while now, and...we've decided to get divorced." There was more shock and awe in that room than in all of the first month of the war in Bagdhad. Even more, there was silence. Allison continued, "We've been in counseling for eight months now, and we just decided this was the right decision for us." Silence. "We decided to have the barbeque because I didn't want to just send out an email to all of my friends." Silence.

Why the hell am I here? This is bullshit. I'm sick as a dog, I hardly know these people, and here I am feeling more uncomfortable than I ever have. And WHY ISN'T ONE OF HER FRIENDS TALKING? Break the fucking ice for god's sake. This is pure needles in the eyeballs here.

Josh started in, "We've been together since we were sixteen, and it's just going to be better this way. We had some issues that honestly should have been dealt with before we got married." "Our counselor told us she could tell we weren't going to make it in the first month, but took our money anyway," Allison added with a chuckle.

They seem super relieved, but the faces on those around the table tell me the sentiment isn't shared.

"And we didn't want to tell everyone before dinner and then have anyone say, 'Wow, look at the time, gotta go now.'"

Ouch, there goes Sportscenter.

"Well, if this is what you two want, then congratulations I guess," one of the female guests blurted out nervously.

Finally.

Unfortunately, things deteriorated for the happy un-couple as the night went on, and the booze continued to flow. Comments such as, "Well, the dog listens better than you do", and "I guess it's imaginary, kind of like the blow jobs I've been getting," certainly made us all comfortable with the situation. The whole freaking experience was odd, but I suppose we all learned a valuable lesson. When dealing with an Iowa barbeque, you can be sure that in addition to burgers, mental agony and divorce are on the menu.

I left the party thinking that if I replaced Iowa with New York City in this situation that this thing might just take off. I can see it now plastered across the pages of GQ and Mademoiselle, "The Divorce Party: What better way to usher in bachelorhood...again?". Hell, everyone's doing it. The only question now is who to invite.

Technorati Tags: Divorce, Iowa, Barbeque, Dinner Party, Friends,
Awkward