Drunko

Every four weeks the neighborhood ladies in Subdivision One, Suburbia, get together for a rousing game of Bunco.

Bunco is a game played with dice. It requires intense skill and intellectual capacity. You have to be able to roll a die and count up to 21. Yahtzee is more difficult than Bunco. So is Finger painting.

Bunco has to be easy to play so we can all consume large quantities of wine and still keep score. This may SOUND easy, but it’s not.

The neighborhood husbands parlayed the name “Drunko” upon our regularly scheduled get together. Bunco / Drunko is really an excuse for everyone to get together and get a little sauced and talk smack about people.

We all take turns hosting Drunko. Every 4 weeks I get to tour another rambler in the Subdivision. All the ramblers in our subdivision seem to have been built by the same guys. So far I have seen my pink bathtub and toilet in about 5 other people’s houses. The exact same tub, dating back to 1955. I think it’s fascinating to see how many people have the identical, impossible-to-match-a-paint-to salmon pink tile in their bathrooms. Finding coordinating paint for multi-colored salmon pink hued tile is a doomed quest. DOOMED.

You can tell a lot about the home’s owner by assessing the color they opted for in their vain effort to coordinate the walls with their cantankerously colored pink ceramic tile. One can gauge the final result on a few different categories. Creativity, Bravery, Conformity, and full-blown defeat. All of us have had our asses kicked by this tile.

Ours is a not-quite-right orangey brick red. Last night’s host chose was a not-quite-right beige. I think I have also seen not-quite-right yellow and not-quite-right peach.

If I ever see someone get it just right, I will suggest we have a block party to celebrate and alert the local media for a write-up.

When I first moved to our subdivision and was invited to play Drunko with the neighborhood ladies, I had a little trepidation. I have never felt like a suburban mom. I didn’t want to hear about everyone’s stinky kids and the politics of children’s sports. I wasn’t interested in becoming a cookie cutter.

I was certain I was the only democrat in our zip code.

I have to say though, the group is winning me over. At least most of them are. I do avoid talk of politics, but I suspect that there are two other left-leaning ladies in the group. It makes me giddy to know I am not the only one. I want to start a suburban mom democrats club with them. This ability to sniff out like-minded folks. I am getting very good at it. People who are gay must have this kind of experience all the time. They have Gaydar. I have Goredar.

Regardless of the dread I initially felt, my Drunko friends have really grown on me. They are mostly really funny and kind. Can I overlook the fact that last night’s Drunko hostess had a Bush sign in her yard last October? Well.. It’s been a year, and yes, I wanted to spit on it and hold up my middle finger every time I jogged past their house…. but Damn it! She is gentle and kind and sweet as can be. And her husband is from the East coast and really freaking funny. Once you get to know certain people it’s awfully hard to dislike them regardless of their political persuasion.

Don’t get me wrong. I will always think Anne Coulter is a fucking imbecile. And the devil incarnate. And a sociopath. With a borderline personality disorder. And she’s ugly. And mentally unstable. Koo-koo nuts. Did I say she is hideously ugly? Anne Coulter is HIDEOUSLY ugly. From the inside out.

But my Drunko friends are not ugly. I was certain I would dislike these people but I have to admit I don’t dislike them at all. In fact I LIKE them. A lot. Except for the one who used the term “Jewed down”. I reserve the right to dislike THAT one.

And that’s O-KAY. I can be a democrat and like my predominantly conservative neighbors. At least until November 2008. Then it may be a little touch and go. I try to be good. But I am not sure if I'm THAT good.