Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?
Picture this: a family sitting down to a perfectly appointed dinner table. A deep aubergine table runner anchors miniature cornucopias overflowing with seasonal abundance—pomegranates, figs, persimmons, and sprays of eucalyptus and wheat.
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The doorbell rings. The exhausted wife, who curated and cooked for days, opens the door.
In walks a woman wearing lingerie and heels like the outfit Kim Kardashian recently wore to the understated nuptials of Jeff Bezos and Lauren Sanchez.
Collectively, the family freezes mid mouthful, and the only sound is a low whistle from Grandpa.
The woman speaks, “Which one of you is Brian?”
The patriarch of the family turns a deep red, “I am. Who the hell are you?”
“My name is Cinnabum. I was invited to dinner. Something about a mashed potatoes and gravy fantasy? It’s not my normal gig, but I was paid ten g-balls. I’m happy to join your family for dinner before we get started.”