I was excited about it until at dinner last Saturday when a woman I really don’t like said, “I hear you’re going to be in a fashion show and that you had a dress fitting today.” I’d only told one person so I knew where the gossip came from but I was taken back at how an off-handed remark at the elevator got twisted so out of shape. I was on my way to buy a new bra to wear for the show and I mentioned that to a neighbor coming back from shopping. I’ve had blood-boiling conversations with my accidental dinner companion before and I sat there trying to decide whether it was her or the elevator lady who twisted buying a bra into a fitting for the dress. I decided it could have been either one. Elevator lady gets confused easily and Dinner Lady is like vinegar to my oil. I pouted half a day over her taking the joy out of doing a ‘larky thing’ like a fashion show and I wondered how many others would be surprised when I showed up in kaftan when rumor has it I was getting fitted for a dress. Yup, “Jean is wearing a tent,” I imagined the run away announcer say, "especially fitted to her plump body."
Vinegar Lady rubs me the wrong way with petty stuff like her oh so prefect table manners and vast knowledge of proper British and Downton Abbey decorum. For example, we had dinner rolls at the table but no bread plates to put them on and the waitress was stretched too thin to catch her attention to get one. So I decided to just butter the roll and balance the bread on my butter plate. When I told her what I was about to do Vinegar says, “If this place were truly the fine dining experience they advertise it to be we’d have table cloths and then the proper place to put bread is right on the table cloth.” Good to know---just not in my world where table cloths and red wine are not my friends.
She also eats with her folk upside down and only cuts one piece of meat at a time which I googled to find the origin of doing that, having seen very few people in my lifetime eat that way. It actually made sense that by holding your folk upside down to cut then not turning it over to eat the bite on the fork that your elbow doesn’t stick out which makes it less likely to bump into someone sitting next to you. For a leftie like me that could actual be helpful and for a bonus point it supposedly looks more graceful. The next time I had meat to cut I tried the upside down fork thing but I reverted back to the way I was taught in a high school etiquette class in the ‘50s. My table manners are just fine except when I eat with Vinegar and she makes me feel like a bowl of volatile oil ready to burst into flames.
Besides her impeccable table manners she talks so soft I can barely hear her even with my new hearing aids. And she talks a lot, always telling about this place or that place in Europe and the doings at her church---she’s one of the ‘Catholic Kids’ who goes every day. When she gets interrupted by a waitress or someone stopping by our table to say ‘hi’ no matter how long the interruptions she always starts back in with, “As I was saying before the interruption…” If she were a husband I’d divorce her on that annoying habit alone.
I did try to not get paired for dinner with her, went so far as to tell the hostess who does all the seating charts to never put us together again. The hostess did try but twice Vinegar came in and decided to sit with me because I was there and her assigned table mate wasn’t. I didn’t want to put the hostess in an awkward situation so I whisper told her that it was okay.
I feel like a cranky old woman when Vinegar is one-on-one with me and I keep thinking I’m putting out the same negative vibes I’d be putting out if I was having dinner with Hannibal Lecter. Apparently I’m not but I’ll bet I’m going to hell in a hand basket for being so such a petty person. Who gets their panties in a wad over minor stuff like this?
The fashion show was fun. I decided if I was going to do it I was going to camp it up, play the game. It even gave me a chance to wear my old silver charm bracelet because I needed to have something to cover up the wide white band of skin that didn't get tanned under my smart watch. ©
