Outer Banks III - Control

One of the frustrating things about sharing the house was J's family was the complete inability on the part of some members to acknowledge the the world does not always work the way they perceive it should. Never was this more apparent then when discussing the different options of dining together as an extended family of fifteen.

While the Outer Banks is a tourist destination(1), it is also populated with individuals who live on the islands year round and support themselves running shops, restaurants and other establishments that take tourist dollars.

Which means that there are months in the 12 calendar month year when they are not making much money.

J's family had a very difficult time understanding why the restaurants are so small and require reservations for large parties. My repeated suggestion that they either make reservations, call ahead to find out if a place could seat fifteen people or eat early enough that it would not matter were dismissed as fear mongering. My attempts to point out that these were businesses that still needed to make a living during the winter months earned me “you have a second head growing out of your neck” looks.

In short, when it comes to dining out some of J's family acts like fucking tourists, the ugly kind that you want to hit soundly and squarely on the head with a heavy object.

And sometimes it happens without ever having left the house.

To fulfill the family's need for a big meal J's brother, J and I organized an old fashioned stove-top clam bake. We purchased steam pots filled with lobster, crab, mussels, clams, onions, potatoes and corn. We added clam chowder, steamed shrimp, pasta salad, ribs, baked chicken and chicken fingers with fries for the kids. I ran to the store and brought crusty french bread, wine, beer and soda.

The majority of the family enjoyed the meal. J's father hated it. All of it. The potatoes were overcooked. The corn and crab legs tasted funny. The lobster was too tough.(2) He didn't like pasta salad made with balsamic vinegar. He had eaten better clam chowder from a can.(3) The steamed shrimp were too spicy.

He ran down this litany of complaints when I went in to relieve him from Toddler Alien bedtime duty. I offered to make him a sandwich(4), which he refused.

When I finished getting Toddler Alien settled, I came out of our room and began cleaning up the kitchen. J's mother told me to sit down, we would take care of the dishes later. I complied.

Once dinner was finished and the first load of dishes was loaded in the dishwasher, the entire family walked down to the beach to fly kits. I stayed behind to keep an eye on Linus. Before they left, J's mother reiterated that I was not to touch the dishes.

Thirty minutes after everyone had left, J's father returned and began giving haranguing me about the dirty dishes. After several minutes, I headed for the stairs as I did not want to argue with him.

I ran into J's sister on the stairs and suggested that she might want to stay out of her father's way as he had a hair up his ass about the dirty dishes.(5) J's mother heard my comments as she was coming up the stairs and immediately went up to see what was happening.

She came down several minutes later and told me to ignore him. She was not happy. I was not happy. Later that evening she suggested I pour myself another glass of wine and come sit out on the deck.

J's father rampaged through the final two days of the trip, making J purchase food items no one really wanted to eat, overruling cinnamon rolls for two cakes (anniversary cake for J's sister and her husband on Friday, birthday cake for same husband on Saturday) and assisting in celebrating the wedding anniversary by taking the entire family for out for a late dinner.(6)

At the end of the dinner, he turned to J's sister and complimented her on choosing a place that served a “nice” meal.

(1) The Outer Banks in July is Pittsburgh South. You can't throw a rock without hitting a Steelers fan.

(2) I agreed with his assessment of the lobster. It had cooked too long. The crab legs, on the other hand, were perfect.

(3) The clam chowder was made with fresh, local clams.

(4) I'm still amazed that I managed to keep my voice neutral and sincere.

(5) My exact phrasing. I was losing my patience.

(6) I regret that I did not have the nerve to flat out say no to the dinner, since we had to wait almost an hour for a seat and it was half an hour past Toddler Alien's usual bedtime by the time we got our entrees. Especially since I knew that was exactly how it would play out. In an astonishingly sensitive move, the anniversary BIL took Toddler Alien for a walk outside while we waited.