• Bridge Ladies

    Bridge Ladies Sometimes I think a meteor could strike the earth and wipe out mankind with the exception of my mother’s Bridge club — Roz, Bea, Bette, Rhoda, and Jackie — five Jewish octogenarians who continue to gather for lunch and Bridge on Mondays as they have for over fifty years. When I set out to learn about the women behind the matching outfits and accessories, I never expected to fall in love with them. This is the story of the ladies, their game, and most of all the ragged path that led me back to my mother.
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And the Jay-Z Song Was On

 

barr-hill-logo-goldsqWork parties are weird. All parties are weird if you’re a writer. They call forth all your anti-social skills. Personally, I lurk by the walls, find one person to talk to, and monopolize them. I don’t drink because of my meds, or maybe just one glass of white wine or bar hill gin and some artisanal tonic. And I don’t smoke either, except in some vestibule and or atop a manhole cover erupting with steam. It’s always great when somebody snubs you or loves you or asks about your work.

 

Have you ever been trapped by a writer at a party?

15 Responses

  1. I’ve been trapped by a philosopher at a party. And a psychologist. Writers? I think so. Do poets count?

  2. God, I hate a party. We’re members of the Cape Fear Cotillion down here and each year, I tell my husband I want to drop out. It happens three times a year like clockwork, and I do my best to make excuses as to why we can’t make it.

    Besides, the only writer I know of is me. Think Harper Lee, and Truman Capote in Monroeville AL. (definitely NOT comparing the writing, only the idea of writers plunked down into small town USA)

    • Cape Fear Cotillion is the name of my next horror novel or maybe a punk band. Hm. What are the benefits of being in a cotillion? Because three formal parties a year sound terrible.

      • It does have a certain ring, do doubt about it. Every time I think of Cape Fear Cotillion, the movie with Robert Deniro comes to mind. God, that was a good movie. What a character he played. The Cape Fear looks nothing like they showed – least not the part I’m familiar with.

        But yeah, imagine getting gussied up when you don’t want to…it is actually only two formals and one that’s casual, but let’s face it. This is the south, and depending on how you were raised, casual is a Spring frock and heels. And mani/pedi. And you have a haircut just like everyone else – bob with those longer pieces in front, (hell no not me). And resting bitch face in makeup. 🙂

        • I went to a party at a friend’s parent’s huge seaside home. Big wigs and nouvo riche everywhere. I spent my evening in the kitchen with the hired help because that’s where I felt comfortable.

  3. Bars, darling. Writers are found in bars where “minding you on business” is the house special tonight. Psycho Suzi’s Motor Lounge comes to mind for the outlandish writer with a deploring excess of personality. For the introspective it is more frequently someplace like Jimmy’s or Knight’s. A bar masquerading as a steakhouse is always nice.

    Parties? Never Worked out well fo any who join them. Blacklisting. Hearings. Disillusionment. Best to avoid.

    Not that kind of party?

    Are you sure?

  4. I am the queen of excuses plus I have excellent exit strategies, so I don’t tend to get cornered. Also, while I’m not a snob, I tend to give off that vibe. It’s an east coast thing.
    Can you tell I’m not a people person?

  5. At a wedding, I cornered a late-middle-aged painter because I was so frightened by the well-dressed socially apt people my age. “Don’t you want to hang out with them?” he asked. “No,” I said. “I don’t know any of them and I’d rather talk about creativity.” Inside I was screaming don’t make me talk to norms!!!!

  6. Not a writer but a painter. And not me but my wife. The painter regaled her for an hour about her belief that she (the painter) had been abducted by aliens, which was the subject of all of her paintings.

  7. Every party I go to I hope to run into the one person with something of interest to say. Sometimes they are in the corners, sometimes they are white knuckling a drink. In any case they are a bit like catching a butterfly– elusive, dodgy and so worth the effort. Keep going to the parties Betsy, I’m hoping to run into you.

  8. Have you ever been trapped by a writer at a party? No. I am that writer who entraps the unsuspecting party goer, running off at the mouth about my book, which inevitably bores the sh t out of them, which in turn makes me feel more insecure about it.

  9. When my picture accompanied my column, (in my former paper), getting trapped happened quite often at work. It was usually women my age who had a friend or a son or daughter who were a writers, and how did I get started, and could I give them advice, and would I read their……….nooooo, sorry have to go back to work.

  10. “Have you ever been trapped by a writer at a party?”

    No. I have been a lucky man, kissed by the angels at birth.

  11. Every time I find myself at a party. And the sound of my voice is getting very irritating.

  12. I am on the board of a Foundation that awards a nice bit of $ to a debut novelist. You have no idea what I hear at parties. But then, I’m easily amused and resigned to never getting asked out on a date.

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