Chapter XI, where Adele tells about a moment when she blushed
Hi, James. This blog is all for you then, since you are the only reader I have. I hope you appreciate the gift. Hi. My name's not Adele. Nice to meet you. If you're ever interested in getting to know the real me, than drop me a line. I guess you know my e-mail address. If you don't, here it is: adele_jameson at yahoo dot com.
I was at this party, by myself, as my double had another social engagement or was just at home reading a book (who cares?, it was my day off of her), holding my dry martini with my left hand and my cigarette with the other hand. It's a little trick I've learned to keep people away. Not having hands available to shake and letting smoke out of my nose really does the magic of keeping people away from me. I was lucky to have a host who would allow smokers at his house, though. If he didn't, I don't know what I could use as a substitute for the cigarette. Maybe a book that would make me seem really intelligent, intelligent in a frightening way. Maybe something by Hannah Arendt. But then people would approach and everyone knows you can always put the book under your arm so your hand will be free to shake another hand. Maybe the frightening intelligence would work anyway. I'll give it a try sometime soon. I don't drink dry martinis. In fact, I just chose to hold it because it makes me look pedantic when it's associated with the cigarette.
I was just walking around the room, circulating a little so I could watch people being them, which is always better than watching any reality show on TV. I approached this one group where one lady was doing all the talking and the four other people just nodded and said occasional 'yeah's. The lecturer kept going on how Muslims are evil and they are out there to kill all Americans and how Iraqis were fools who wouldn't appreciate American kindness in allowing them some freedom. Well, I totally disagree on pretty much everything the woman said, but I never discuss politics (at parties, that is) and I was certainly not in the mood for that. I think I probably involuntarily grumped because one of the gentlemen who wouldn't stop nodding and had the most horrible fake sexy voice (I guess he felt that would give the impression that he was in fact a sexy intellectual) looked my way and asked me if I had any thoughts on the matter.
Of course I had, but I hesitated for a moment. I don't mingle at parties. I'm too shy. I just don't think I'm cut off to mingle and smile and be nice. I have to pretend I am if people ask me to. So, no, I'm sorry, I don't, was my answer. This reply made him flip his lid. Such an extreme reaction, I thought, maybe she had a little too much to drink. Maybe she thinks flipping over this makes him seem even sexier to the eyes of the lady he was with. So he started yelling at me: 'You Muslims! Aren't you ashamed? Have you no conscious?" He even called me names. He was so not a gentleman.
Now, I'm a peaceful gal. I mean, I don't get into fights and the only time I was genuinely angry happened when I was what? 15? I hit a girl in her face during a handball game, using the violence involved in the game to make a statement she never really got because I didn't tell her. Instead I apologized. She was just so obnoxious to everyone in our Math class I just had to let it out somehow. The guy kept yelling at me and I could start feeling the blood running to my face. I blushed and my mouth turned as dry as my martini. I kept quiet, of course. 'Coward!", he shouted to my face, with his finger up.
I can't stand people fingering me. It's just so irrational it makes me mad. I decided to speak up in a very calm way, the softest tone of voice: 'I just think the president has come up with a lame excuse on chemical weapons to invade a country and overlook a country's sovereignty, that's all. As for the killing, have you asked yourself how many civilians have been killed by mistake? I don't know much about Islamism, I'll give you that. But at least I don't babble about things I know virtually nothing about just to look smart and to get laid with a silly someone who thinks this is an expression of intelligence.' Ok, I never said that last part about getting laid. I'm just too polite on the outside to do that. In return, the lecturing lady said something like 'You liberals make me sick to my stomach. How can you be pro Sadam and his attrocities?' That was when I turned my back at them (such a waste of time!) and decided not to go to parties at Sam's anymore. Never ever.
I had the sudden wish to be at home, sitting on my couch, listening to jazz and knitting Noelle a nice dog scarf. So I took my coat, put out the cigarette, left my glass on a table and left. I waved at Sam and smiled. So much for the dry martini slash cigarette trick.
I was at this party, by myself, as my double had another social engagement or was just at home reading a book (who cares?, it was my day off of her), holding my dry martini with my left hand and my cigarette with the other hand. It's a little trick I've learned to keep people away. Not having hands available to shake and letting smoke out of my nose really does the magic of keeping people away from me. I was lucky to have a host who would allow smokers at his house, though. If he didn't, I don't know what I could use as a substitute for the cigarette. Maybe a book that would make me seem really intelligent, intelligent in a frightening way. Maybe something by Hannah Arendt. But then people would approach and everyone knows you can always put the book under your arm so your hand will be free to shake another hand. Maybe the frightening intelligence would work anyway. I'll give it a try sometime soon. I don't drink dry martinis. In fact, I just chose to hold it because it makes me look pedantic when it's associated with the cigarette.
I was just walking around the room, circulating a little so I could watch people being them, which is always better than watching any reality show on TV. I approached this one group where one lady was doing all the talking and the four other people just nodded and said occasional 'yeah's. The lecturer kept going on how Muslims are evil and they are out there to kill all Americans and how Iraqis were fools who wouldn't appreciate American kindness in allowing them some freedom. Well, I totally disagree on pretty much everything the woman said, but I never discuss politics (at parties, that is) and I was certainly not in the mood for that. I think I probably involuntarily grumped because one of the gentlemen who wouldn't stop nodding and had the most horrible fake sexy voice (I guess he felt that would give the impression that he was in fact a sexy intellectual) looked my way and asked me if I had any thoughts on the matter.
Of course I had, but I hesitated for a moment. I don't mingle at parties. I'm too shy. I just don't think I'm cut off to mingle and smile and be nice. I have to pretend I am if people ask me to. So, no, I'm sorry, I don't, was my answer. This reply made him flip his lid. Such an extreme reaction, I thought, maybe she had a little too much to drink. Maybe she thinks flipping over this makes him seem even sexier to the eyes of the lady he was with. So he started yelling at me: 'You Muslims! Aren't you ashamed? Have you no conscious?" He even called me names. He was so not a gentleman.
Now, I'm a peaceful gal. I mean, I don't get into fights and the only time I was genuinely angry happened when I was what? 15? I hit a girl in her face during a handball game, using the violence involved in the game to make a statement she never really got because I didn't tell her. Instead I apologized. She was just so obnoxious to everyone in our Math class I just had to let it out somehow. The guy kept yelling at me and I could start feeling the blood running to my face. I blushed and my mouth turned as dry as my martini. I kept quiet, of course. 'Coward!", he shouted to my face, with his finger up.
I can't stand people fingering me. It's just so irrational it makes me mad. I decided to speak up in a very calm way, the softest tone of voice: 'I just think the president has come up with a lame excuse on chemical weapons to invade a country and overlook a country's sovereignty, that's all. As for the killing, have you asked yourself how many civilians have been killed by mistake? I don't know much about Islamism, I'll give you that. But at least I don't babble about things I know virtually nothing about just to look smart and to get laid with a silly someone who thinks this is an expression of intelligence.' Ok, I never said that last part about getting laid. I'm just too polite on the outside to do that. In return, the lecturing lady said something like 'You liberals make me sick to my stomach. How can you be pro Sadam and his attrocities?' That was when I turned my back at them (such a waste of time!) and decided not to go to parties at Sam's anymore. Never ever.
I had the sudden wish to be at home, sitting on my couch, listening to jazz and knitting Noelle a nice dog scarf. So I took my coat, put out the cigarette, left my glass on a table and left. I waved at Sam and smiled. So much for the dry martini slash cigarette trick.
posted by Adele at 7:48 AM
<< Home