by Bella Rum
I went to my first book club meeting on Monday. I didn’t know a single person there except my friend who invited me. They were welcoming, and I was comfortable immediately. The best part about meeting a group of people like that is observing the dynamics. I love to figure out how it all shakes down.
Everyone had name tags. I assume that was for my benefit because they all knew each other. I didn’t tell them, but I couldn’t see one of their name tags if my life depended on it. I’d have to walk up and rest my forehead on their chests to read them. So you know I only remember about three names. I’ll get the rest at the next meeting.
They were all ‘church’ friends of Maria’s. The idea for a book club was hatched by Mary (one of the names I remember) because she had knee surgery. She’s having some complications and decided she wanted to have some company. We will have to meet at her house until she recovers enough to get out and about again.
A couple of them were very well read. One of them went to college with Stephen King. She had lots of stories – not just about him – and she reminded me of Judi Dench. She even dressed like her in The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel. She even wore a shawl. I love a girl who wears a shawl. Wish I could remember her name. She was my favorite, and color me surprised when, on the way home, Maria told me, “She gets on my nerves sometimes.” I shouldn’t have been surprised. We humans can so easily perceive the same experience differently.
Maria took a bottle of wine, but no one would try it. Maria knows wine, so I had a glass. Would have had two, but I didn’t want to get rowdy amongst new friends.
I wasn’t all that fond of the first book they chose, and I was curious about the next choice. One of them, Sarah (a name I remembered), said, “Remember, we talked about certain kinds of books we would not like to read.” I said, “Oh, like what?” She said that they would not like books with violence… and being the bright bulb I am, I figured sex and language would be out.
So much for my crazy end of world scenarios where the dogs are eating everyone’s faces. Just kidding. I haven’t read that yet. But remember in Stephen King’s The Stand when that guy was trapped in prison at the end of civilization as we knew, and he ate those cockroaches. Don’t judge. You’d be hungry too if you were trapped in a cell for a couple of weeks.
I’m kind of sorry about the ‘no violence’ rule. This excludes a lot of good choices. “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…” Know what I mean? I’m fine with inspiration, but I like a little turbulence in my books, too. They’re a nice group of women, though, and one of them makes great cake. I can’t remember her name right now, but after I tasted her cake, she became one of my faves. So I’ll remember her next time.
Our next book: Half Broke Horse: A True-Life Novel by Jeannette Walls