So, I joined a book club. My neighbor invited me and I read a ridiculous amount so I thought it might be a good way to meet some like-minded people. You know, friends.
I finished the first book the night before the meeting, and then the meeting was cancelled because no one else finished the book; not even, I learned, the person who suggested it.
The second book was better, but not by much. I went with my neighbor and enjoyed meeting some of the other women (it’s an all female group, so far). We sat eating and drinking for close to two hours before anyone mentioned the book.
The third book I really enjoyed. Because it had a bit to do with poverty and secondhand stuff, we decided at the previous meeting that we would each bring five things for a “swap.” We met last night at Three Notch’d Grill. Among the swappin’ stuff there was a framed print, jewelry, dresses (one vintage), a candle, a food chopper and some flavored dust somebody got at one of those tacky sex toy parties.
Keep in mind, I’d only met four of these women before and last night, only two of the women I’d previously met were in attendance. I showed up at the restaurant asking for a table full of strangers. Fortunately, the owner knew someone from the book club and knew what the heck I was talking about.
So I’m the stranger, really.
I brought, in my swap bag, a pair of red boot cuffs that I have never worn. As I was showing them around the table, trying for a taker, I mentioned that I thought they might be real fur, possibly rabbit.
Have you ever seen a tableful of well dressed, smooth, educated women simultaneously recoil? It’s pretty amusing.
Then I squinted in the dim light until I could read the tiny “100 percent polyester” label and the horror at the table subsided. A bit of a book club faux pas, I gathered.
We talked about the book for about 15 minutes, an improvement over the last meeting.
I guess I won’t wear my mink to the next meeting, after all.
Marijean–I’m not sure I had the same take on the rabbit fur incident, but I did want to address your concern about the books chosen and the length of discussion in the book club. I’m not sure if you knew this, but the name of the book club you’ve joined is “The Low Brow Book Club” or LBBC for short. It was formed by what are mostly working mom’s who wanted to have some motivation for adult reading and conversation, without the stress that comes from many bookclubs on deep content and discussion. In other words, a lot of the members are in this more for some time out of the house, rather than hard core literary time. While I myself would prefer perhaps more discussion, and maybe even some highbrow choices from time to time, I realize that this is not why the club was formed. It is what it is, and although I am not a working mom, but rather a working single person who appreciates a good book suggestion, I enjoy going to the meetings, as the company is always friendly, and the cause noble, albeit “low brow.”
I hope you will continue to join us in our Low Brow pursuits–but maybe leaving the mink at home IS a good idea!
Best,
Sarah
My goodness, polyester! I’m so appalled. Oh well at least your are on PETA’s good side.
@Sarah:
Hmm, doesn’t “low-brow” mean of low (or questionable) cultural value, not low commitment to reading a book. I’d think it meant Tolstoy is off the reading list, instead preferring _Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood_.
You could have a “low-brow” club that reads 5 books a week.