“Women’s League”

For me, those two words conjure up a messy pile of ambivalence.  “Do-ers of Good Deeds” is at the top of the list, alongside “Toxic Estrogen-Fueled Politics”.  Because of the former, i am willing to spend an afternoon dealing with exposure to the latter, and attend the local Women’s League Annual Luncheon.

Never mind that my friend DK could ask me to lie on a bed of broken glass while having ‘relations’ with Bea Arthur’s decomposing penis for a good cause, and i’d think about it.  She has that power…

Having attended last year, i had a better idea of how to prepare for the event this year.  Themed luncheon, raising money for scholarships through raffles of cleverly prepared and donated baskets.  No bar.  Short entertainment program, along with a tiny bit of self-congratulation and effusive thanking.  No bar.

Last year, i packed in a flask of whiskey, only to discover that the choices for drinks were water, iced tea and coffee.  This year?  The bar was enhanced to compliment the choices offered…

That is a shot of my purse.  Left to right – flask of whisky, Kahlua, Bailey’s and Godiva liquers, large water bottle carrying a mixture of raspberry vodka, apple schnapps, triple sec, sour mix and a splash of cranberry juice.  To those who said i learned nothing from my brief stint in the Girl Scouts?  Bite me.  i was prepared.

Since i shared from the flask last year with a couple of local politicians, the gents had asked DK prior to the luncheon if i would be as prepared this year.   When the politicos seek you out for gentle debauchery at a Women’s League luncheon, you have achieved…. well, i’m not sure.  But i felt special.

Throughout the luncheon, the two of them would stop by, leave a half-empty glass of iced tea on my table and say “could you watch my drink?  I’ll be right back…”.  Returning to a tasty modification, they each pulled this trick a couple times.  My friend the Judge Wannabe was at their table.  When i explained the “offerings” he vaporized in a flash.  One of the elder-politicians simply said “He’s campaigning.  Needs to be more careful.”

So we slurped our way through the speeches, the entertainment (“and now, my daughter Felicia will play the recorder for you”), and enjoyed lunch with friends at the table.  The main event, however, is the basket raffle.  About forty baskets full of themed goodies – everything from “Spa Treatments” and “Gourmet Delights”, to “Family Game Night” and “Grandma’s Play Date”. 

Since it’s for a good cause, i dumped a bit of scratch on raffle tickets.  Having won a lovely wine bucket, with champagne, last year, i was  not screwing around with “Manicure Basket” and “Garden Goodies”.  Oh, no.  Of the forty baskets, only two had multiple bottles of wine… 

All of the baskets were lovingly prepared and donated.  People expended time and resources to create these.  Clearly, some were far more popular than others – and you could see women dropping “sympathy tickets” into some of the more lame baskets, so the creator wouldn’t feel slighted.

Fuck that.  The two wine baskets each got about half of my tickets….

WIN!  “Wines From (Almost) Every Continent” is now resting comfortably on my dining room table.  i may be a lush, but i understand probability and statistics…