Humans have many strange traditions concerning the proper celebration of Yule. For example, they will go out of their way to plan a party with their work compatriots, so that they can spend another two or three hours in the company of those they have just spent eight hours with.
Apparently the presence of food, beverages, and inexpensive, possibly-cringeworthy gifts makes this all right.
Sigyn and I have tagged along tonight. This particular get-together is being held in the upstairs of a local pizzeria. Three guesses what the party fare will be!
We are early. That is to say, we are on time, and ‘most everyone else is fashionably late. (I have never understood that expression, as the guests arriving late seem to be no more glamorously attired than those who were punctual. Whatever. Sigyn and I are here at the appointed time, and we look Fabulous.)
While we wait to assemble a Party Quorum, we have been urged to sample some munchables. There is fried cheese, hummus, garlic bread, and these. A big plate of greasy, fried, super-extra-spicy chicken flappers.
Sigyn thinks she wants to try them. I am not joking, dearest. These are not merely, “Oh! What a nice hint of paprika” spicy. These are, “Sweet Frigga, Mother of Thor, those little $%&! are HOT”
After just the merest taste, I have the urge to burrow into the nearest snowdrift and try to put the fire out.
Ah. Looks like the ale has been set out. These brands are very well they known; the attendees have been aware of them practically their whole lives.
There was a rather nice Turkish beer here—clean, crisp, quite hoppy— but it was popular enough that it has vanished. The human female liked it, which means I will make sure she will never encounter it again.
The tables have been decorated to a fare-the-well. Sigyn likes this very shiny shrubbery
At last! The Real Food is being brought in. The human female is beginning with a salad. As if that will somehow negate all the fried cheese and pizza
And here is the main course. The human female has gone in search of slices featuring pepperoni. I, on the other hand, have selected this ham-and-pineapple version because I know it will drive the human female all spluttery and red in the face.
Eat up! We can’t get to the presents until you lot quit stuffing yourselves!