Do you know what happens when “serious literary discussion” collides with rowdy party-goers? Take it from me, the party rockers win every time.
If you can believe it, three of the moms featured in one of my previous columns (“Wine and Wisdom”) were fool enough to think we could revisit the site of our previous horror and overcome it. Yeah, right. As the old saying goes: “There’s no fool like an old fool.” In this case, make it three old fools.
Jean, Angie, and I met up again at “Comesta” with our daughters in tow, joined by fourth book club member Maggie and her daughter, Anne. As we were seated in a semi-secluded part of the bistro, I thought, “This might be OK. It’s not too crazy loud back here.” Two minutes later, a boisterous group of 20 was seated to our right. As they roared with laughter and clinked glasses, we attempted to discuss our book, “Under the Egg.”
Anne started, “I really liked the part…”
“WHOOHOO! Way to go, Kallie!” Applause and hoots from the other table drowned out her comment.
“Honey, what did you like? Was it the part where the girls visit the museum?” Jean prompted Anne.
“That part was good, but I really liked the clues that led to…” “MY MAN, DAVE! Dude!” Another explosion of applause from our friends to the right led our group to cover our ears with our hands.
“Well, maybe we should just order,” I shouted, trying to be heard above the din, “and talk about the book while our food is being prepared.” I flagged down our frazzled waitress and we placed our orders.She scribbled furiously and disappeared. We didn’t see her again for almost an hour. During that time we:
- attempted five more discussions of the book, four of which were interrupted by the party animals.
- emptied our water and lemonade glasses and were left desperately thirsty (from all our shouting)
- and were reduced to rationing dry bread crumbs among the girls, knowing that their tender bodies needed the nutrition more than we did.
When the food finally (praise the Lord!) arrived, we dove in. Further attempts at discussion were, ha ha, tabled. The big group wrapped up their festivities with a rousing, and off-key, rendition of HAPPY BIRTHDAY and departed.
Finally, some peace. As we waited (and waited…) for our checks, we four moms looked at each other. “Never again,” the looks said, “Never, never again…”
Mary Becelia lives with her family in Southern Stafford and usually loves her monthly Mother/Daughter Book Club meetings!