I hate to sew. I'll do almost anything to avoid sewing. A horrifying but true fact is that sometimes I run through the streets with my buttons all loose.
When I got invited to attend a sewing circle a few days before Valentine's Day, I was shocked. I thought it was public knowledge that I hate to sew. Why would they want to invite me? Yes, I'm popular and pretty blah blah blah. I wondered if they'd noticed my loose buttons and were staging an intervention. I almost said no, but then remembered that people who sew are often also bakers. The refreshments might be awesome. I decided to take the risk, even if it meant possibly returning home with my buttons re-attached.
When I got to the sewing circle the refreshments were indeed awesome, but the mood was very grim.
"What's going on?" I said. "Why all the long faces?"
"None of us have a date for Valentine's Day," said the hostess. She bowed her head and concentrated on her sewing.
"Then come to my party on Valentine's Day," I said. "There will be lots of people there without a date. We plan to get drunk and bake pornographic cookies. Then we'll call people on the phone to ask if their refrigerator is running. If they say yes we'll tell them to go catch it."
Everyone looked up from their sewing projects. Their expressions could best be described as quizzical.
"So, are any of you coming to my party?" I said.
All of them shook their heads.
"Sorry," said the hostess. "It sounds like fun but it's not my kind of thing."
Other voices chimed in. "Mine either." "Me too." "Thanks for thinking of me, though."
My feelings were hurt, but I strove to sound breezy and unconcerned. "It was only a suggestion. I'm just reminding you there are alternatives to being alone on Valentine's Day."
"Thank you for sharing, Nancy," the hostess said. "It's always good to know we have choices."
I decided to let the matter drop. If they thought it was better to be alone than to go to a drunken porno cookie party hosted by someone with loose buttons, that was their problem, not mine.