Twinkle: The Things I Do For Material

Accepting the invitation for Bunco night seemed like a good idea at the time--it was the night we started this blog and it seemed like a hilarious prospect...playing Bunco on some godforsaken street off Chamberlain Lane with my mother-in-law and a bunch of strangers. I now believe the calamari at Jack's is hallucinogenic, because how else could I have ever agreed this?

Now, here I am, staring my Bunco sentence in the face, and I can think of SO many things I'd rather be doing on a rare night out. I can also think of things I'd rather do with five dollars...surely that still buys a mimosa somewhere in this town. I mean, even at the meetings of certain volunteer organizations, you can at least count on a Doll's cheese torte and a few glasses of wine. Here I'm sure there'll be an open bag of Dorito's on the table and some sort of a 2-liter. Diet, if I'm lucky.

So I'm trying not to think about it, and enjoying my last afternoon of Bunco innocence. Make no mistake: if Bunco ever comes up in conversation, I'm going to play dumb. And if I'm ever asked about it flat-out, I'll lie. Why can't Mr. Twinkle's family do something normal, like the women in my family, who drink wine and gossip like nobody's business? That's my scene--not Bunco. I'm hoping something hilarious or illuminating will happen to make it all worthwhile.