Just to clarify, the other women did their homework. They were lovely. Had thoughtful things to say...how cultural differences may be at play when observing older, long married couples, how communism may have shaped how couples relate to one another in public, how Queenie's tumor was a metaphor for something (it was deep, I know it, but my capacity for deep is not that deep). I was waiting for Starbucks to go all dreamy and white and Frankie Avalon to start descending a white staircase, telling me to "to go back to high school...baby don't sweat it...you're not cut out to hold a job..."
I am going to blame my pants. Yup, that's right. Henceforth, I shall never again wear orange pants to a book club meeting. I'm shuddering just recalling it. And with so much on the line, it was not the day to say to the barista, "What can you make me that's skinny?" What I was really thinking was.. 'Please, God, I want to be skinny' but I will settle for a vanilla macchiato latte double shot espresso grande. Make it a skinny. But then all I thought about after I got the skinny, frothy cup was it didn't taste very good. Very distracting.
And my glasses. Surely, they would have helped. They have a few rhinestones- nothing too detracting. I would have looked smarter anyway. Maybe.
But next time, I will definitely finish reading the book. Definitely. Maybe.
Though just to be sure, I picked something I already read for next month's book, Let's Pretend This Never Happened. Jenny Lawson, how I love you.
There is a small possibility I may end up kicked out of book club but it's for a good cause. And I will not hold it against them. My eleventh grade English teacher had a hard time with me as well. But I hated Huck Finn then and I hate it still. Come to think of it my sixth grade English teacher was none too pleased with me either. Here's Frankie again..."Well, they couldn't teach you anything..."
Maybe they could all start a club. I could drop in occasionally to remind them all why the club exists.