The woman leaning over is telling the woman in the black hat, “I have always HATED you.”
So I was doing the ladies-who-lunch thing a few weeks ago. I haven’t done that in a while. In the old days it involved drinking 2 1/2 glasses of Chardonnay (the 1/2 being someone’s suggestion to, “Share one more…”) and eating an arugula leaf. After lunch, the other ladies would sober up on drip-brewed coffee and feel mildly guilty. I would go home and have a few more while I folded laundry and ate a nourishing carton of Good n’ Plenty, I’d be late for picking up the children at the bus, and I’d fill the nearly empty bottle in the refrigerator with water to hide from my husband, the fact I’d polished off another one.
Even many years ago, when I started drinking it always ended badly: a Desperate Housewives scenario, chatting up the pool boy in kitten heels with my wine in a coffee cup…
The reason I bring up the lunch is that one of the women (I knew casually and know much better now – she is an avid reader and commenter on the blog), said something very interesting.She said with great emphasis, “I hated you.”
It is a testament to how far I’ve come, that we laughed about it. I was rather loathsome (in a moth to the hibachi sort of way) and she and I have become friends, so I figure she forgives me for my indiscretions past.
I have realized as I sit here this morning that there were some signature, hateful things I used to do, that I don’t do now that I’m sober. Here they are:
- The yacking hand puppet – When someone was rabbiting on about a subject of little interest to me (which was just about everything), I would make a mocking puppet out of my hand, and mime their speaking style.
- The I’m bored, bored, bored – At some point during a dinner party or charity auction, or a child’s play I would put my head in my hands and roll my eyes dramatically to indicate I was not amused.
- The argument for argument’s sake – I was fearless when debating topics I knew nothing about with experts in their fields (scripture with a priest, politics with the Managing Editor of the WSJ – true story);
- The brush off – I never remembered people’s names and I rarely remembered important events that involved anyone but my inner-circle.
- The Godzilla vs. Bambi – Something would click and I would zero in on the unsuspecting.
- The where did she go? – When you drink as much as I did, you get sleepy and desperate to get away (like a dying dog under the porch) and I would just disappear.
So for all of you out there who still HATE ME, I realize I was kind of “unpleasant”. And I have changed. And I am truly sorry…
