Don’t Forget To Extend The Pinky

Today was the day of my bi-annual tea party. Yeah, yeah. I know. A lot of you will probably think ‘What kind of fruity poof is this guy?’. I’ll admit, the first time that I conjured up the idea of doing it I thought it was somewhat effeminate, too. Here’s one of my first posts regarding our regular tea party. The premise is simple – me and a group of ladies go out for afternoon tea, scones, finger sandwhiches and intellectual conversation at a posh hotel every six months.

Who am I kidding?

We get together and we gossip, sexually harass each other and scope out the people around us. Good times, indeed! This time we went to the Ritz Carlton at Pentagon City and accompanying our merry band of ladies was my wife, Angela. Unfortunately, we had to venture forth a girl down because another of our regulars, Bev, couldn’t attend. Bev, I ate a scone in your honor. Should you fail to make the next event we will have no other choice but to take you out back and give you a randy spanking.

Just Say No To PotNone of us had been to the Ritz Carlton’s tea before so we were pretty unsure of what to expect. The Four Seasons had sort of spoiled us while The Jefferson disappointed us. The Ritz was actually a very pleasant surprise. The Lounge where the afternoon tea is held was a little small in comparison to the Four Seasons and rather than a mixture of chairs, booths and couches all of the seating were regular tables with comfy high back chairs. The decoration itself was what you would expect from an expensive hotel – ornate, expensive, “ritzy”. The sandwhiches were smaller than the Four’s but still rather flavorful. There were the requisit scones and tarts, short breads and rich chocolate confections. All in all, not too shabby for $34 per person.

That wasn’t the main reason that we get together though. We could go to a Starbucks and still have a good time. As soon as we congregate we shift into conversational high gear. We told stories of old times together, boobs, parenting, panty liner revenge and all means of sexual inuendo. You get an interesting glimpse in everyone’s sense of perspective, too. Sarah’s daughter had an emergency – a speeding ticket that apparently was going to cause deep emotional scars for the rest of her life. It must have been her first. Us old hens? We were all thought of ways to potentially torture her by encouraging Sarah to make her feel worse about it and scare her.

Rhonda spoke of her grand-daughter in a wedding, we grilled Lisa on her relationship (mental note, must bite Lisa’s daughter at the first available opportunity), Lila continued to call me her ‘cat’ and everyone admired Angela for being able to put up with me. The remarks that we are perfect for each other and that we have a model relationship was hilarious. By the end of the get together Lisa decided to drop a bomb on me – her small photo book that contained pictures of her, her beau and also her daughter. Oh, wait…is that her daughter in a bikini?! MEOW!

All told, it was another successful outing. Ok, when I say ‘outing’, I mean as in ‘trip’, not as in ‘exposing someone as being gay’. Again, I’ve been tagged as the one to plan the next get together. During the ride home Angela and I started going over the pros and cons of doing a mani/pedi day and we agreed to drop the pedi part. Now everyone can wear whatever shoes they want and not worry about shaving their legs! Next time we’ll be hitting a coctail hour in a froo-froo hotel or restaurant so that we can ogle various men and women and drink booze.