A Change in Plans

Sometimes things do not go as planned.

On the Friday afternoon of the 11th Sapphic Slumber Party Ms.O and I arrived at the mansion, unpacked our truck-full of boxes and supplies, and started to settle in.

O was filling the fridge with our Prosecco and groceries, and I was driving around the block looking for a parking spot, when a dude carrying a case of beer sauntered into the kitchen.

O politely told him he was mistaken, he couldn’t be throwing a party here tonight because WE had the space booked.

It was strange already; in spite of the mansion being downtown I always manage to find the perfect parking spot right outside. I do not know how, but the gay gods just make it happen. On this occasion, for the first time in slumber party history, I could not find a spot. I had been driving around for half an hour and was getting further and further from our destination when O’s messages started coming through.

“Not to alarm you but…”

At the very same time my phone was lighting up with O’s concern, the owner of the mansion started messaging me too.

“Hey, I don’t know what happened, you were booked for tonight right?”

Unfortunately there’d been an honest mix-up and the venue was double booked for the Friday night. Saturday we could return no problem, but for tonight we’d have to change our plans.

I beelined back to O and we put our heads together. We made a pivot I can only describe as elegant and impressive.

The next hour and a half was like an action movie, except with nerdy hosting logistics. We packed everything back up into my minivan and headed to O’s place. I navigated the hectic Friday night rush hour traffic while O was in the passenger seat taking notes and taking directions. She was like the “guy in the chair” sending texts as I dictated, looking up delivery options for various things we now needed, activating our coven with requests and favours.

We needed to make sleeping arrangements for all of the out-of-towners, get air mattresses and blankets in bulk, set them up, contact all of the party-goers with the new address and change in plans, get all of the perishables into cold storage, and get ourselves fed and ready to host.

90 minutes later we were on O’s balcony, everything set and ready like this was our plan all along, smoking a joint saying “everything’s fine” and “yep, it’s all gonna be okay” over and over to soothe each other.

We are adaptable creatures, with no doubt we can rely on our community. Friday night would be a real slumber party.

Ms.O - Sapphic Slumber Party #11 (Detour)