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Confessions of Lisa - Entry 6 |
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Written by Lisa M.
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Monday, 13 August 2007 |
Why oh why did I promise Mom I'd drive home for her casino-night party? I’m so sick of traveling. I want nothing to do with a plane or a car. But she laid on the guilt thick. And I lapped it up, like the good little Catholic/Jew that I am.
Yes, there's the intrigue of Dylan. Well, sort of. It’s hard to get too excited about meeting Ethel’s son. But the real reason I'm driving home to Queens is because I feel sorry for Mom. It's the first time she's throwing one of these shindigs since Dad ran off with his young, busty secretary. Could that be more clichéd? That rat bastard.
Anyway, so I need to be there to support her. And knowing Mom, she'll
wait until the last minute to make all those appetizers and desserts. I
can't believe the spread at these parties, especially after they've
already indulged in a big banquet dinner at their favorite restaurant.
But come midnight, they get their second wind and they're huddled
around the buffet table like freshmen with the post-pot munchies.
It's quite a sight—all those 60- and 70-somethings around the Blackjack
and Pszoker table—not to mention the handful of Mahjong addicts. If you
talk too much or take too long when it's your turn, you get the evil
eye. Really, it’s freaky. But they love it.
Oh my gawd. Sudden realization: Mom and her friends have a better
social calendar than I do. Hell, they even stay out later than I do.
Better get off my Dairy Queen ass and pack my weekend bag. It might just be the most fun I've had in months.
Check here every Monday to read a new confession from Lisa.
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Confessions of Lisa 
