Every now and then, not as often as before but still often enough to be noticeable, I feel a little bit like a fly on a plate.

SCRIBBLERESQUE PARENTHETICAL THOUGHT: That sentence really seems familiar to me. Not the words, but the general flow of the thing. I think it might remind me of Moby Dick. I'm not intentionally plagiarizing anyone though, so I guess it's okay.

Years and years ago, when I used to be one of the best pool players in whatever bar I happened to be shooting and/or hanging out in, I guess I got used to that feeling. Of being in the spotlight. Of everybody watching me. All the time.

I guess I got used to it, and I guess I kinda liked it even. It probably motivated me to excellence and shit.

But that was a long time ago. In the years since then, the spotlights have come from completely different directions, for completely different reasons.

These days, my friends at Rich O's often look to me to set the mood. To tell the jokes. To keep them entertained. These days, more often than I really care to speculate on, I seem to be in charge of whether my friends enjoy themselves.

Talk about pressure!

For the most part, I think, my friends eventually figure out that I'm a bit of an asshole. At that point they either stop talking to me or they at least stop relying on me to be their only source of entertainment. This is perfectly fine with me. I cannot be "on" all of the time. It's exhausting.

My family is an entirely different matter.

The thing about my sisters, and of course I love them like sisters, is that they just don't seem able to accept the fact that I'm not the same person that they know from before. Hell, I'm not even close.

Back then, I was introverted, and friendly, and caring, and patient.

These days, these days I'm not.

Patient? I don't have fucking time for that.

Caring? What's in it for me?

Friendly? As long as you can prove that you're not an idiot within 10 seconds of meeting me.

Introverted? Okay, fine. That's still there. It's just not as noticeable as it used to be.

So, basically, like I said up above, I'm an asshole. I'm self-centered, and I'm kind of a beer snob, and I'm so easily annoyed by strangers that I make Boo Radley seem like Richard Simmons in comparison.

SCRIBBLERESQUE PARENTHETICAL THOUGHT: Mr. Simmons was just the most extroverted person I could think of on such short notice. There are probably several people who would be better suited for the purpose for which I wrote the above.

Anyway.

This weekend my sister Neisha is supposed to be coming to Rich O's. This is such a fantastic and rare occasion that I'm a little worried that the denizens of Hell may be at risk from frostbite.

SCRIBBLERESQUE PARENTHETICAL THOUGHT: Now would be a really good time to open a Winter clothing store in Hell. Or maybe go down there and hang a shingle proclaiming myself as a personal injury attorney. But then again, Hell is probably already full of lawyers, so I should just stick with the Winter clothing store idea.

So, even though it's still three days away, and I remain aware anything could happen between now and then, I'm a little excited about the prospect of Neisha coming into Rich O's.

I'm also a little nervous about it.

Not because my sister is coming. Nope, I'm a little nervous because she's bringing a friend. She's bringing a friend from out of town specifically to meet me.

Talk about pressure!

I have no idea what my sister has told her friend about me. I can only imagine. Probably the usual stuff.

Dave is funny.

Dave is charming.

Dave is smart.

Dave can juggle.

Dave walks on water and performs other miracles.

At least I don't have to worry about the Dave is HOT thing because (a) I'm not hot, and (b) it's my sister.

Saturday night, I need to be on my best behavior. Saturday night, I need to do whatever I can do to keep my sister from being called a liar.

Saturday night, I need to be on.