Over the years, I've picked up some heavy sarcasm. I've always been a serious, focused, goal orientated person, but the other side of me always wanted to have fun too. The sarcasm has become the product of my personality fighting with itself. In the past few years, the sarcasm has become more progressive by the influence of others (I don't know, possibly my husband). The more I have to deal with people outside of my family, the more I need a coping mechanism. Hence, we have sarcasm.
Now that you have some background, I can get to the story. This actually happened about a month ago, but I needed some time to figure out the approach.
So I was invited to join a book club through one of the other soccer moms on Child #1's team (who I've become close friends with over the past few years. She still likes me even with my flaws). Since I read like a crazy scientist that never sees the light of day, she thought I would be a perfect fit for this group. It was actually her first time joining the book club as well. I thought okay I should try this. I wanted to expand my boundaries, do something out of the box, improve myself as a person, blah, blah, blah. If it didn't workout, I could just not come again. No problem.
I enter the person's house that is hosting the book club, I'm the third one there. The hostess and another woman that I've met before (these two are best buds). They are gracious with introductions and offer drinks. Then my friend who invited me shows up. We chat and everyone falls into conversation. Then two more women show up. One looks at me like I might've grown a wart on my face and it was still growing right before her eyes. (Okay so I wasn't dressed exactly for a night out on the town, clad jeans, ponytail, no makeup, glasses, tennis shoes, no jewelry, but it was a fucking book club at a persons house. Come On! I thought I dressed the part perfectly as the book worm.) The other women I've met as well through another function I went to. Introductions are made around the circle. I think to myself, I can handle this (Besides my friend that invited me, there are only four other women at this book club. That makes six total people at this club. If my friend and I didn't show up, there would've only been four people).
The conversation continues. The one woman who looked at me like I was a space alien (did I mention she was weighted down with jewelry, every finger had something on it, multiple bracelets, earrings, necklaces) asked what I did for a living. Here is where the sarcasm rears its ugly head.
"Nothing." Then I proceed to stuff my mouth with brownies.
Silence, all eyes on me. They all look horrified at me. (I didn't mention that the four women that I wasn't friends with previously were dressed all to the nines. My friend was dressed casually, but not all jeweled up.)
Another one, laughs and says, "So you eat bon bons all day."
With my mouth full of brownie, I say, "Yep. Well actually it's cookies."
My friend tries to help me out and says, "That's not true, you do a whole bunch of stuff."
When I'm sinking on a ship, I like to be on it by myself so I stick to my story. My answer goes back to the days when I worked full time. People would always ask me what I did. They would always make a big deal about what I did so I started to down play what I did because it was just a job. Sometimes things appear to be more exciting than they really are. In everything we do, there is always a downside and an upside. So now, I just respond I do nothing otherwise I would have to go into a monologue of everything I do on a daily, weekly, monthly basis. It's boring can't we just talk about other things. Who cares what we all do for a living. Let's just talk about a book. It's way more exciting. All this is going through my head, but I keep it securely repressed from reaching my lips.
At this point, I thought we were waiting for more women to show up because we hadn't started discussing the book yet. I also have consumed two alcoholic beverages in a matter of one hour so I've become a little more social and excited than I normally am. The hostess does try to veer the group to discuss the book by asking a question about it. I'm pretty sure this is the point it all goes down hill for me. Suddenly the topic of conversation switches to someone's head stone. I become quiet and try to follow where this is going because I must've missed something. They continue to talk about a woman and viewing a head stone at a cemetery. I still can't figure it out so I ask whose head stone is it. It turns out that the headstone is for a baby ( I know it is a very sad subject, but we are at a book club. A little inappropriate.) who was stillborn a month prior to a woman whose not even at the book club. This conversation continues for a full complete hour. Since I've lost interest in this whole thing, I'm feeling this club is definitely not for me. I'm almost positive all my feelings were written on my face. I can't keep a poker face to save my life.
Finally the conversation is veered to other topics that I can join in on. Then the gossip club (oops, I meant book club) wraps up and they discuss what book is going to be the next book to read. I think to myself, why even bother you don't even discuss the book. I try to appear interested and exit as fast as I can. As I'm leaving, I'm wondering if I shouldn't just try it one more time. Maybe this was just an odd night. I want to stay positive.
The next evening, I get a call from the hostess of the book club. This was strange in itself, but I answered the phone and immediately I knew why she called. She was beating around the subject and was having a hard time saying what she wanted to say so I helped her out.
I laughed and said, "I won't be offended if you don't want me to come to the book club next month."
She thanked me and insisted it wasn't her decision and she really wanted me to be part of the group (we had a great conversation the night before), but others didn't think I was a good fit. Then she asked if I could still send her an invite to my www.shelfari.com page.
Whoa, back up here. You don't want me to show up to your stupid book club, but you still want to see what kind of books I read and recommend and what I have to say about them. WTF! Next time, you invite someone to your club, inform them that it is an exclusive gossip club and you are not allowed to invite anyone else unless you get the weighted down jewelry queen's approval. Good Luck!
My friend who invited me was more upset about this situation than I was, but what a great friend she is because she is now boycotting that book club and we are starting our own. Anyone can join even if you need to wear a wig and dress like a homeless person, you will still be welcome.
Have a nice day!
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