That's Not Very Nice!

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Oh Dear....

So, I was over at Richmonds place the other day, snooping around, lurking if you will.......

And in this post, she makes reference to these "parties" the ladies in her neighborhood have.

I despise those parties. I would rather have oral surgery. I hate everything about them. Hate hate hate.

And here is why:

As a rule, the only reason the "hostess" invited you, is because she wants your money. That's it. You do not become popular coming to these Godforsaken and refusing to buy stuff. They want you to feel obligated to buy large quantities of this junk because everyone else is, therefore it must be awesome products at an awesome price. They try sometimes to make it look good, but all they want is your money, plain and simple.

F that crap. I don't want your overpriced candles. I don't want your kitchen gadgetry, or your spices, or mixes, or your jewelry, or your laundry soap.

I do not respond well to peer pressure. If I sense that I am being played, I push in the opposite direction. Hence, I can proudly say I have NEVER purchased anything from one of these "parties". I have gotten the stuff as gifts, that's fine. I just won't play the game.

One time, many (well not that many actually) moons ago, my Husband and I were invited to a January outdoor bonfire party. Pretty cool deal actually.

As the night progressed, I start noticing all of the gals have disappeared, and all that is left at the fire is the menfolk, and me. Which is fine, as I generally have very little in common with these wives of my husbands co-workers. I'm not what you would call "one of the girls". I am much more of a "one of the guys" types.

So, anyway, as the gals start coming out of the house, back to what I thought was the party, they are saddling up to their husbands, swooning, and hint/begging for the checkbook so they can go back inside and order some jewelry from wife x.

Hahahahaha!!! Suckers. And all the while I sat out by the fire drinking beer and staying out of trouble in my blaze orange insulated hunting suit, while these snobs with their coordinated sweater/headband sets and designer jeans gals had to go inside and warm up, and get ambushed.

Anyway, not sure why my rant went in the direction it did, but if you need me.....

I'll be standing in my driveway, having a beer, looking towards Richmonds house waiting for her to come join me.......