Irritating Serenity

I have to write this on my desktop in the kitchen because my brother and Cher are staying here and I can't use the command console in the goddamn Secret Chamber. What a hassle.

Colin and his woman flew in from New Avalon earlier tonight; I picked them up at ECX after coffee with Hydrangea (who I have to meet in about an hour to hunt for evil lamas). As usual, our meeting was a little awkward. I haven't seen him in like, six months, and we don't talk on the phone much, so it's always a little weird. We used to be close when we were kids, but after Mom died we kind of drifted apart.

His wife, Serenity, never has liked me much. We don't have a lot of common ground - I'm a vain, materialistic consumer and participant in pop culture, whereas she is at one with the earth and feels sad that I have such a shallow life. She's a walking Joni Mitchell song. She's a teacher in a private school for rich hippies. Mom would have loved her, but they never met.

They're in town for a wedding on Sunday. Yes, a wedding on Halloween. I had to ask, who has their wedding on Halloween?

"They're Wiccans," Serenity says as we drive back to my pad in the Saab.

"Oh," I say. "Okay."

"What?" she says, as if my "okay" has some other meaning. She's picking a fight. I feel Colin tense in the passenger seat next to me.

"Nothing," I say. "That's great."

"But you were going to say something," she says.

"No, I wasn't," I say, then switch gears. "You guys hungry? We can pick something up."

They're not hungry. We drive in silence for a minute.

"I wasn't going to say anything," I say finally. "I've got nothing against Wiccans."

"Here we go..." Serenity says.

"I don't! I played D&D when I was a kid, didn't I Colin?"

"Leave me out of this," he says.

"I did," I say. I should shut up, but I can't. "I can dig all that elf and fairy shit."

"Elf and fairy shit?" she says, growing irate.

"Christ, Doug..." Colin says.*

"Sorry! Sorry. Forget I said anything."

We drive in silence some more.

"Hey, you guys want to listen to NPR?" I say.

They hate me.

(*Yes, my full name is Douglas Connor Mackenzie. Feel free to insert your Bob & Dog Mackenzie joke here.)