Remember the recurring schtick on the old “Mary Tyler Moore Show” where every time Mary tried to throw a party, it was a disaster and practically no one showed up? I felt a little Mary-ish on Saturday once my bingo party began.
The guest list included the members of the club for which the party was being held (about 70 people) and another 10 or so of my friends. The ultimate guest tally was 10, plus two people serving as bingo callers. I’d gone to a great deal of trouble to round up tables and chairs, clean the house and back yard, buy refreshments, etc. By the time the party started, all I really wanted to do was take a nap, and the low turnout did not help tip the party/nap desire scale in the party’s favor.
When I was a little girl, we had some neighbors who occasionally invited me over to play with their kids. Sometimes they’d offer to come by and get me for some outing but then forget, and I would sit forlornly looking out the window, long past the time the fun was supposed to begin. My mother would be absolutely furious at them for getting my hopes up and then flaking.
A lame party always bring out the forlorn little girl in me, shadowed by a faint flicker of fury inherited from my mother. I know it’s nothing personal – it’s a spring weekend, people have plans – but it’s still disappointing.
Luckily the party was mercifully short, so I had the opportunity to put away all the furniture and food, stash the cooler of soft drinks in the basement, and move on to reading the copy of Eats, Shoots and Leaves that I’d purchased while party shopping. I ended up with a good supply of leftover hummus and pita chips and some lovely raspberry cookies that make a good garnish for vanilla ice cream, so everything worked out in the end. Just don’t ask me to host another party anytime soon.
Leave a Reply to Rita Cancel reply