(Or was there?)
There was a time, thought Carlos Rodrigo del Iglesias Jardinio (Cridge, for short–only his mother called him Carlos Rodrigo del Iglesias Jardinio and only then when she was really mad at him, like that time when he painted all the ducks purple and orange: only blue paint allowed!), when scores of people would have shown for any kind of soirée or garden party he might decide to throw, not to mention cocktail parties or brunches!
So the lack of guests, if not quite alarming, sure didn’t sit right. No, it didn’t sit right at all. Cridge spun a party favor bag around and around on his left index finger while the fingers on his other hand reached for a (his third!) delicious chocolate lavender macaroon.
Granted, his last party had ended somewhat poorly. The helium powered hyenas had, well, lead balloons came to mind, let’s just say.
Cridge sighed and reached for some pink lemonade (spiked, obvs, with his favorite brand of vodka).
Later, he would put all this excess away. Later.