One of my Co-workers is a member of White Shrine, Amaranth, Rainbow Girls and every other ridiculous organization like them. She’s even ‘Grand Matron’ this year. Whatever that means. Apparenlty that’s something very important as she spent 20 minutes the other day telling me that it’s very important. She flew to North Carolina to be ‘Inducted’ and showed me the pictures. It was in a lodge (SEE: trailer equipped with tacky brown wood paneling walls) and all the girls wore matching blue taffeta dresses. Think Violet from Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory after eating the gum. The men wore Kilts. Being Irish I found this festinating because my mom’s family is mostly Irish and none of them wear skirts to fancy dinners. She started in on some speech that she had clearly given at least 500 prior times (which I tuned out about three sentences in) on the importance of the Kilts.
Just now she spent 45 minutes on the phone (I’m not kidding, 45 MINUTES) discussing how they were going to coordinate dinner tomorrow. Dinner, meeting, dessert? Dinner, dessert, meeting? Meeting, dinner, dessert? Maybe Dinner, Dessert, Meeting, Coffee? No, Dinner, Coffee, Meeting, Dessert? Yes, that’s it! But who should make coffee? Sally made it one time and it was horrible. Patty made it and it took too long to serve. Mae made it last time so it’s not her turn. Doris has a turn coming up but she hasn’t called in three day’s so she’s just a hag and we hate her so CLEARLY she’s out.
Now, dinner. Chicken or beef? We had chicken last time but I can’t really eat beef so I think it should be chicken again. What about pizza? No, too informal. Ordering Chinese? No, not everybody likes that. Buffet? Yes, that will work. Who will bring what? Should we do an alpha split? How about a sign up sheet? Or maybe we can bring dessert so everybody should bring a main dish. But Sally brought a salad last time that had WILTED lettuce. And Mae thought it was okay to get TWO SERVINGS of spaghetti. Stupid wench. And that Doris again, can you believe she took MY spot at the table?! I mean, I know they aren’t LABELED.. but I’ve sat at that spot for like, 10 years it’s MY seat! Hag.
This entire process would not be so EXCRUCIATINGLY ridiculous to listen to if she didn’t have like FOUR of these meetings a week. It’s like 60 year olds living out high-school-type drama. And I can tell you that at 60, they are FAR more catty than the 14-18 year olds. They’d serve Doris the 14-18 year old’s up at the buffet.