I recently got together with a group of women to just hang out. That’s never really been my style, but my husband thinks I need to have a social life that involves grown-ups, face to face, blah, blah, blah.
“I never really hung out with girls much.” I said. “I mostly hung out with guys. Much less drama, you know.”
It occurred to me, that might sound insulting so I quickly tried to explain.
“I mean I like them, I just don’t – See, to me girls are – I mean, were, like snakes. I think snakes are fascinating and I like to interact with them sometimes, but I wouldn’t want one around all the time. Uh, but that was a long time ago. Now I LOVE hanging out with snakes – uh, girls – women.”
I could see I was making things worse, so I poured myself some coffee, which I don’t even drink, just to get out of further elaboration.
“I agree with Shay.” Evette said.
Evette’s one of my friends I like to hang out with because she doesn’t play games, no drama, no backstabbing. She’s more likely to stab you right to your face. Wait, that sounded horrible. She tells things like they are. She doesn’t lie to your face then talk about you behind your back. At least I don’t think she does.
“Women can be psycho. My ex-sister-in-law was crazy.” Evette added.
“The one that went to jail for hit and run?” I asked.
“That’s the one.” She said.
“Oh, my gosh. Was she driving drunk?” asked one of the women in the group that looked like a 1950’s librarian.
“She wasn’t driving. She just punched a guy in a restaurant and ran off.” Evette explained.
“For no reason?” someone else asked.
“There has to be a reason.” The librarian stated frowning.
“Maybe she knew him.”
“Nope.” Evette said.
“Maybe he cut in line or bumped into her.” Someone else offered.
“It could have been PMS. I’ll hit anyone when my hormones are off.” I said, perhaps a little too forcefully.
An uncomfortable hush fell over the group and I could tell from Evette’s expression that I had just gotten kicked out of another social group.
Suddenly everyone had somewhere to be and it was just me and Evette.
“That went okay.” I said lamely.
“That was not okay. Why do you have to – “ she stopped before voicing that thing I did that was too…
“You’re the one that brought up the hit and run.” I said defensively.
“I did that because I wanted to get kicked out of this group. I don’t want them to start asking me to join them and have to make a bunch of lame excuses for avoiding them.” She said.
“You…? Well, maybe I did too.”
“Uh-huh.” Evette said finishing her coffee. “I gotta go.”
“Okay. Hey, what about you’re girlfriends. Maybe sometime I could join you-”
But Evette was already shaking her head as she headed to the door.
“What? I can behave.” I said chasing after her.
She continued to shake her head as she exited the diner.
“Why not? Is it because I’m white?” I asked point blank.
Evette let out that beautiful, although in this case irritating, laugh. “It’s because you’re annoying.” She explained.
“No I’m not! Am I? Really? What do I do that’s so annoying?” I asked as she got in her car. “Name one thing!”
She started the car. I stepped back, but raised my voice so she could hear me through the window.
“One thing! You can’t name one thing, can you?” I said smug in the knowledge it was an empty excuse and there wasn’t one thing actually annoying about me.
She paused and rolled down the windows just a crack.
“You don’t know how to let things go.” She said with the confidence of someone that had just laid down the winning hand in rummy. Then she drove off.
I love Evette, but she was wrong. I was going to go home and write down every single non-annoying thing I do and present it to Evette. And to the breakfast club for that matter! That would show them just how wrong they are about me.