And The Winner Is....

Mark is having a party Sunday. It's an Oscar party where each invitee pays five dollars and is given a ballot. At the end of the night, if you have picked the most winners, you win the pot of money. I'm sure it'll be fun for someone, but not for me. I don't give a rats ass about the Oscars, nor do I usually enjoy Mark's parties. That's because while Mark does all the food preparation, and receives the glory for throwing such a spectacular spread, I am the one who cleans.

Before the party I am Mark's slave. I clean the house, and clean the yard while at the same time responding to orders Mark squawks at me. Afterwards, while Mark is recovering from all the festivities, I am the schmuck who again cleans the house and the yard. In fact I am usually already in the kitchen, scraping food off the walls, and scrubbing it all down, while everyone else is getting drunk on my liquor.

Mark has done the Oscar thing once before. It was very nice, and as is his way, he produced a great party. The only thing is, at the end of the night it turned out that Mark had won his own little contest. Mark had picked more winners correctly than anybody else. He was ecstatic. Inside Mark's head the money had already been spent, already been left at the mall. But it wasn't going to be. I explained to Mark, "The host can't be the winner. You have to give the money to the next runner up."


After I calmed him down, and held him until he stopped sobbing, I explained that it just wouldn't look right.
"Be a good host, and do the right thing Mark."
In the end he finally agreed, and awarded the money to the next highest ballot.

I don't know what's going to happen this time. Mark has been studying all the nominees, and watching as many of the movies as possible. I hope he is just doing it for the glory, because I won't let him keep the money. But of course he already knows that, I think.