Putting the "MO" in MOFO since 2004

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Tuesday, March 21, 2006

 

I am the neighborhood crazy lady.

The third Monday of every month, I play Bunco with the neighborhood ladies in my subdivision. I live in a subdivision, and we have no sidewalks. There. I said it.

The lack of sidewalks in my neighborhood just confuses the Hell out of me. It seems rather unsafe to teach your children to ride their bicycles by sending them flying down the driveway, catapulting straight into fucking traffic. It’s our own form of Suburban Darwinism I suppose. Only the bright and athletically inclined children survive learning to ride a bike. The dumb, uncoordinated ones get squashed by SUV’s. Children who survive learning to ride a bike are more likely to make their parents proud by making it onto the teeny itty bitty mites hockey league where their parents and coaches can live vicariously through their wobbly skating progeny and verbally abuse and intimidate them into becoming dedicated athletes. YAY SUBURBS!

But hey….at least I don’t live on culle-de-sac.

Last month Bunco was hosted my moi. I busily put together trays of vegetables and Hummus. I made brownies and set out napkins and bridge mix. My guests arrived, and the wine flowed. The conversation turned to the politics of hockey and school bus bullies.

One of my guests brought her very cute infant daughter along. She held the baby while she rolled the dice, and everything went off without a hitch. When I rotated seats to the next table I discovered her breast pad stuck to the couch. This in itself was not at all a big deal. In fact, it was pretty amusing. I let her know I had found it and she laughed and said something to the effect of “Oh, I leave those all over the house. My husband so-and so gets SO MAD at me when he finds them!” To which I replied:

“Do you tell him to fuck off?”

My comment was met with the stunned silence of eleven people. Someone coughed and changed the subject. Apparently women in my subdivision either A. don’t tell their husbands to fuck off, or B. tell their husbands to fuck off, but don’t talk about it at Bunco.

I think I might be considered a bit of an outcast in my subdivision. Not that there is anything wrong with that.

14 Comments:

Blogger DDM said...

This could soooo happen to me! I feel like I have carefully sensored me, depending on the company I'm keeping. I'm proud of you. Let the F-bombs fly baby!

11:56 AM  
Blogger walktrotcanter said...

Ditto! Glad to know I have comrades out there. We just moved to a *subdivision* (sans sidewalks!) and I can already tell I am not going to fit in too well with my potty mouth.

1:33 PM  
Anonymous amy said...

I don't fit in my no sidewalk suburb either. You can come play games at my house any time...and you can tell my husband to fuck off if you want to. Lord knows I do!

3:24 PM  
Blogger Dawn said...

I would round it out by announcing the reason my kid has brain damage and ADD is all the crack I took when pregnant trying to escape her father , my pimp.

Cause if your in for a penny, your in for a pound.

3:36 PM  
Anonymous TB said...

I think this is awesome. Truly. You said you don't feel completely at home in the suburbs anyway. Way to keep it real :o)

6:31 PM  
Blogger JB said...

Not an outcast at Bunco! NOOOOOOO!

Meghan, I think that you maybe overlooked the fact that these ladies just haven’t heard the word “fuck” uttered in such a casual, everyday way. Either that, or they’ve entirely underestimated the virtues of the various expletives in your repertoire.

7:18 PM  
Blogger Mary Tsao said...

And your party was going so well!

I said the F word at a playgroup once and the looks I got said it right back at me. Only not in so many words.

Swearing is the new goth.

9:13 PM  
Blogger Rude Cactus said...

Every neighborhood needs a rebel.

9:12 AM  
Blogger Catizhere said...

heehee! Sort of similar thing happened yesterday. We were down the shore at the campground moving the trailer to it's shinier, newer campground and one of the mainenance men dropped the "f-bomb" in front of one of Joe's very staid, church-goin' buddies. I thought Bill's eyes were going to pop out of his head! He even said to Hoover, "Tsk tsk... foul language in front of a lady" I was looking around going "Lady? Where?" It was sorta cute though, stickin' up for the wimmin folk and all.

1:28 PM  
Blogger mothergoosemouse said...

You can join my Bunco group. Which, ironically enough, is not in my neighborhood. Because I don't fit in there either. But I DO fit in this other neighborhood. Go figure.

AND, our group has sex toy parties in addition to Bunco.

5:33 PM  
Blogger Michele said...

I love it! Sorry your Bunco group was so shocked. I was invited to play Bunco once - as a substitute only because this group is very tight (who knew Bunco was so IN?) and those women swore like sailors. I fit right in.

1:28 PM  
Anonymous madge said...

I'm admittedly very behind in my reading, but WTF is Bunco?

I almost peed myself reading this (Thanks Childbirth, indeed).

10:13 AM  
Blogger leelee said...

Ooooh, I so did the "F" word at a bunco party! I also flipped someone the bird that night as well...

It was about that time that I decided the group was getting far to clicky and snooty for me to bother attending any longer! We did our own spin off group of people that actually could take a joke (and a little swearing) from time to time!

9:36 AM  
Blogger Peggy Payne said...

I'm writing a book about neighborhood crazy ladies from our past. I wonder if you knew any when you were growing up. If so, I'd love to hear from you. My email is ppayne51@cs.com, website www.peggypayne.com

8:56 AM  

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