I knew almost immediately that I wanted to use this prompt as one of the “80’s Themed” writing topics because having dinner with my guest would be a dream come true.
Originally, I thought about writing this as if I was attending dinner at her house but then realized that the thought of a celebrity of this magnitude having dinner in my 37ft camper would be hysterical so I ran with it. I tried to keep it pretty true to life by including the reactions that would like come from my pets.
I had a great time with this prompt and I hope you have fun reading it!

My chocolate lab Scout alerts me to the arrival of my guest long before she makes it to the door. She begins to bark the moment she hears the limo pull into the driveway. I hear my guests’ heels clack on the makeshift deck before she delicately raps on the front door. Carefully she makes her way into my camper where she is greeted by Toothless, my easily terrified rescue cat who runs for his favorite spot under my blankets. All the while, Scout continues to bark. Apologizing for the pandemonium I see her to the couch and then turn my attention to fighting all 75 pounds of Scout out the door.

My usually neutral camper is decorated with an ornamental tablecloth, colorful dining ware, and festive twinkle lights are hung to add a little something extra. After all, when you consider that my dinner guest is nonother than the flamboyant Cyndi Lauper you might understand why I decided to go the extra mile to create a warm, color-saturated space for us to enjoy our meal.  As we sit on the couch chatting, I can’t help but reflect on the difference in our wardrobe. I myself am a jeans and black t-shirt kind of gal while Lauper is dressed in a neon pink dress, leather jacket and leopard heels. Her traditionally wild hair does not disappoint and it’s a bubble gum pink and is styled in an over the top ‘do’.  

Space is limited in my camper, so we decided on a tossed salad with shrimp and fresh cheese. I pour Cyndi a glass of wine and being sautéing the shrimp all the while we chat idly about the recent Grammy’s as well as the extensive list of Grammys’ she has won herself. While plating our dinner I notice that Toothless has made his way from the back bedroom and is watching us from what he considers a safe distance.

We pass the next hour and a half laughing while Cyndi more than graciously answers my star-struck questions. Eventually even Toothless deems the threat level nonexistence and joins us in the living room. When the time comes for her to leave, Scout again alerts us to the presence of the limo and full of dinner and wine I see my guest safely out to her ride. After she leaves it occurs to me that Lauper’s personality was so large that it had filled every square inch of the tiny space and not in a way that makes you feel smothered more like a warm embrace

Concerning the 80’s theme, I thought long about who I would want to have dinner with if possible. At first, I was thinking of people such as Steve Jobs, Nelson Mandela, but then I started thinking of all the musicians I could choose from when it dawned on me … Motley f***ing Crue. Recently a Netflix film was released called The Dirt that told a wild story of their life as a band, but I would love the chance to sit down and talk to them. A majority of people might want to have dinner with Nikki Six or Vince Neil, but I would rather sit down with Tommy Lee. Out of all of the members, I always thought that he was the funniest. I would want to ask him about all the wild times he had with Motley Crue, but his solo ventures and current music projects.

Here is how I imagine the dinner going:
My brother would never forgive me if I had this opportunity to have dinner with Tommy Lee so I would invite him over too. I would order out, because I am a terrible cook, and would not want to embarrass myself in front of my guest. I’d like to think that Tommy is a vegan so I would likely order some Thai food. I would ask him about his funniest tour stories, and try to shy away from any controversial topics. I would ask what he thought about The Dirt, and whose idea it was to get Machine Gun Kelly to play him in the movie. My brother would ask a million music questions, since he is also a drummer. Hopefully, after a few beers, I could convince Tommy to play the drums for my brother and me. My brother would be the happiest person on the planet and it would be cool to share that experience with him.

For this assignment it said to come up with someone that you would want to have dinner with and explain what you would have for dinner, some discussion topics, and how the night would have gone.

I’m Having an Old Friend for Dinner (2 stars)

If I was to sit down and have dinner with someone, anyone of my choosing it would probably be the man himself, Hank Aaron. The main reason I chose Hank Aaron is because my dad named me after him when I was born. Also, I have always wanted to meet the man that I was named after and the all-time home run leader in the MLB. (For the people that know baseball Barry Bonds holds that record but used steroids to do it, so in my opinion that doesn’t count. But that’s another conversation that can be had some other time.) So back to my story about dinner with Hank Aaron. My cooking skills aren’t that great but let’s just say that they are for this situation. I would cook up some chicken and shrimp alfredo which is one of my favorite dishes. Some discussion topics for while we are eating would be baseball back when he was playing, how it felt to break the all-time homerun record, if he faced any adversity along the way through his life, how did he ended up becoming the player that he was, what it was like when he was growing up, and probably mention that my dad named me after him when I was born. As the night progresses, I would think that it would be going well and that the two of us would definitely be getting along with sharing the same interest in baseball. It will be an educational night as well as I get to hear about how life was when he was a child and growing up. Also, to see how baseball has changed and to be able to hear it from someone that actually lived through that time and not just from statistics and articles about how the game has changed. Overall, I think that this night if it were ever to actually happen, would go very well.

It’s been months since Johnny died. Outside of work, I’ve kept to myself a bit. I admit, it hit me harder than it probably should have. Still, I’m trying to do better. I kept telling everyone that I’m leaving soon, that I won’t be around much longer. But maybe that isn’t such a good idea. I travel around a lot, sure, but Tombstone has been the longest I’ve been in any town since I came out West. I do like it here. Maybe I will leave eventually, but not as soon as I thought.

Anyway, I decided to catch up with some old friends instead of hiding away like a hermit. My old friend Talie agreed to come over for dinner, so I’m preparing a meal. Steak and potatoes, something I think she’ll enjoy. It’s a favorite out here, since half the town has cattle of their own. Not as expensive as where I’m from, either, which is nice.

Talie is one hell of a cowgirl, always keeps you in check. She makes sure everyone is taken care of, especially recently. I haven’t reached out to her much, but I caught her the other night while she was making her rounds in Riza’s saloon, my new place of employment. She accepted my offer (after joking about whether I even knew how to cook) and we agreed to tonight at 6. She’s got some things on the ranch to attend to, but I suspect she’ll be on time.

I set the table while the food is cooking, making sure my little house is fairly tidy. I take care of myself better than I do my surroundings, and it certainly doesn’t help that I hardly ever have anyone around to keep me in check. Hopefully it looks clean enough to house a guest. The dining room is spotless, anyway. I even have some tea waiting to be brewed for after dinner. This is the most organized I have ever been.

Talie gets here at six o’ clock sharp and thanks me for inviting her over. She gets comfortable and we sit down for the meal. She compliments the food (but part of me wonders if she’s just too nice to tell me it’s no good) and we get to talking. True to her nature, she gets right on asking how I’m doing, just in the way that she does with everyone – kind, really concerned about your wellbeing. I tell her I’m fine and apologize for being so withdrawn lately. She asks if I still plan on leaving, and if I need anything. I tell her I’ll be around a while longer, and she brightens up, grins, tells me that we have to go drinking sometime if that’s the case. Next night I’m off, she makes me promise to come and hang out with the Gals again. They were planning on some cards sometime, too. I’m terrible at cards, but she knows it and asks me to play with them anyway. I agree to it and I can’t help but smile. Talie knows how to make anyone’s day brighter. It’s just part of her nature.

I make the tea after we clear off the plates and she tells me all about the ranch, how the new calf is doing, what her plans are for the summer festivals. She always wins at least one or two awards for her cattle each year, but she still puts in her all to make sure her cows and bulls look prime for the shows. I tell her I heard rumors that she was going to be part of the rodeo this year, but she waves me off and I just smile. I don’t know if she would, but I know she’d be good at it.

Soon enough, the tea goes with the daylight and she has to leave. A cowgirl’s work is never over, she says, and I get her hat and coat for her. Along with our farewells, she makes me promise again to join her next Thursday for a night out with the Gals. I tell her I’ll be there, no doubt about it. She smiles, gets on her horse, and waves goodbye as she rides off.

With friends like her, it’s hard to imagine leaving this town.

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I wrote this story in accordance with an assignment in which you imagine having dinner with an old friend. For this week, we have to include other characters into our works, so I thought I would continue the story after the radio show (again) and have an old friend of Danny’s come over for dinner after the events of “Turning Tumbleweeds”. Talie is a cool character, and definitely one who I think would be a good dinner guest. Hopefully I portrayed her well!

I love writing, so making this story wasn’t difficult. The most difficult part is judging how a completely different character might respond to the prompts I give throughout the story without losing the personality of the character at all. I really enjoy writing collaborative stories, so the challenge was fun to take on anyway.

P.S. Be sure to listen to the radio show tomorrow (Thursday) to find out what happened! We worked really hard on this show and I’m very excited to have everyone listen in, so get ready!

Men and women in bright server uniforms dashed about, carrying dishes piled high with delicacies from around the world. Shellfish from the great ocean to the west, pies made with exotic berries, and roast beast of all forms sat upon the long dining table, cooling to just the correct temperature prior to the grand banquet. At the head of it all, standing on a raised platform in front of a pair of massive, antique, doors, stood an old bald man in the brightest livery of them all. Deep purple stockings lead into a gold tunic that looked to be woven of the metal itself. His hand and feet were clad in shiny, black leather gloves and shoes no doubt made as a matched set from the same animal.

“Hurry Danton, get the silverware laid out! Our guest will be here any minute, and I will not be seen as some low brow swine on account of you louts!”

“Of course Lord Fandil, it’s all almost done being shined! We’ll have it out in just a moment.”

His voice carried an unspoken threat, if he was at all displeased with any part of their preparations, every single one of them would most likely be homeless and jobless by the end of the night. As demanding and harsh as he was, none of the staff preparing the dinner wanted their families kicked out into the cold nights like those who came before them and the entire room quickly picked up its pace to a near fever pitch after Fandil’s demand. The knives, spoons, and other utensils came out on a massive trolley, gleaming in the light of the chandeliers, and hordes of servers rushed it, picking up utensils two at a time in gloved hands and carefully setting them on the table.

Fandil clapped his hands as the  last servant stepped back from the table. With military precision the entire cadre turned on their heels, did a deep bow, and walked out of the room in two long lines, leaving just Fandril and the massive feast. Careful, so as to not ruffle any part of his immaculate outfit that had taken thirty minutes and the help of two servants to properly don, he walked down the small flight of steps to the head of the table. There he sat in a high backed throne made of dark wood with rose engravings, padded with cloth made by monks in the far south. The throne had already been pulled out so he would not have to sully his hands with manual labour and with another clap, a pair of servants came hurrying out to push the throne closer to the table before disappearing through the doors they had entered through. All was ready, now all he had to do was wait for his guest.

It was rare for the king to give such a responsibility to one of his nobles. Normally envoys from other nations were fast tracked to the capital to see the king, so when a letter arrived for Fandril that he was being given the honour of hosting a leader of the mountain men he was more than happy to oblige. Just thinking about the prestige this guest would bring him made his mouth water more than anything on the table ever could, finally after all the years of petitioning the king for more acknowledgment and sway in the kingdom, he was finally being noticed! He, Fandril, would be the one allowed to show the mountain men the wealth and power of the lowlands and convince them to stop their petty border skirmishing.

“A man approaches! He says he is of the mountain men!”

Fandril was taken out of his revelry by the shout, only one figure? It was true the mountain men would only send one envoy, but decorum and prestige warranted a large train of guards, servants, and supply follow him, surely no noble would disgrace themselves and walk all this way on their own. Fandril thought for a moment before responding, perhaps this man was just a scout or a messenger for the envoy, coming to tell him that they were delayed? It was terribly bad form to get the message so close to the intended time of arrival, but maybe the mountain men were slightly more lax in their manners than the more civilized lowlands. The thought irritated him ever so slightly, he would have to send a letter of complaint to the king about the slight later, but for now he knew he had to play the gracious host.

“Let our guest enter!” Fandril called.

A pair of double doors at the other end of the hall swung open, letting in a chill breeze, and a massive man stepped through, easily a head and a half taller than the armoured guard that had just opened the door for him. He wore a thick fur cloak that hung around his shoulders, and was secured around his neck with what looked like a bone clasp. Underneath the cloak he was bare save for a pair of thick rawhide boots and loincloth of similar make to his cloak. Fandril’s mouth slightly opened at the bizarre figure standing before him. All decorum was lost for a moment and he only barely restrained himself from standing up before protocol demanded it.

“I welcome the envoy of the mountain man and all his allies into my home, I welcome you to my home” Fandril said, regaining his composure, and only now, with the greeting done, being able to stand.

The man continued to stand, looking around as if he had never been in a mansion before, and seemed to almost totally ignore Fandril’s welcome. Finally after what seemed like an eternity to the noble, the envoy’s gaze settled on Fandril and for a brief moment, Fandril thought the strange man might finally do things in a civilized manner, instead, the man took a step towards the table.

“You are the leader, yes?” he said, continuing to stare at Fandril.

“Yes, yes of course I am, where is the envoy? What news have you of his travels you beast of a man? When he arrives, I will have words with him over your crude conduct here!”

Fandril could not hold his temper any longer, his hands were planted on the table as he leaned over, all thoughts of his golden tunic crumpling forgotten. He was nearly ready to call his guards on the man, but he knew the envoy, whenever he arrived, would not take kindly to such an act.

“I am champion of mountain man, we meet yes?”

“Oh, of course!”

Fandril immediately straightened up, putting on a large smile. Within he was raging at this fool. It would seem the mountain men saw this as a mad lark if they sent such a buffoon to treat. Even so, he knew he had to treat the beast with respect as a noble to another ‘noble’.  He tried fixing his clothes, but the crease was already set, and would take a servant to properly set, failing that, he looked up and flung  his arms wide.

“We will meet now! I am lord Fandril of the lowlands, come, let us figure out these grievances between our lands now.”

At that the mountain man smiled “Let the victor feast this night!” and pulled out a barbed mace from underneath his cloak.

The mountain man jumped up on the table and charged down it. Fandril, taken totally by surprise, stood in front of his throne, staring at the charging ‘envoy’.

“What is the meaning of this? You, no, guards!”

The food on the table did not make his steps falter at all, He leaped past or kicked through everything on the table, sending near priceless delicacies and ceramics crashing to the ground. Fandril turned to start to flee, but it was much too late and the mountain man leaped through the air, mace held high, to have it come down on the noble’s skull. The last thing he heard before his skull was shattered was the mountain man screaming “Vain lowlander, you believe you can best me without a weapon? The lands are ours!

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Well, this assignment might not fit the theme exactly, as it’s not literally me hosting the mountain man, but I could imagine myself as a slightly less nasty version of Fandril in this generic fantasy setting. I wasn’t certain what I wanted to do at first with this story prompt at first because there’s not many things I’d really want to have dinner with, or for that matter that it’d make sense to have dinner with assuming it was real. I could have gone with something funny I guess and that would’ve opened up more doors for goofy things, but I wanted to do something semi serious. A lord ordering his orderlies around to prepare a feast seemed fun to start, but probably a bit boring after, so I was thinking about what his guest could be. Some sort of barbarian was my first thought since it’d be a kind of funny butting of heads, but then I was thinking about why he would be visiting and it sort of fell into place. A conflict, between the lowlands and the mountain men, an attempt to end that conflict, and a lot of miscommunication between customs and cultures and what ‘conflict resolution’ means.