Still, since moving here to Florida and getting to work from home, I felt the pull to force myself to join things. I am still pretty particular about what those things are, though. Kickball league? I left those days of humiliation back in Monmouth Beach Elementary School, thank you.
But a book club isn't that far out of my comfort zone. After all, my friends Erica, Lauren and I created one years ago back in Maryland, and I actually really enjoyed it at first. We were all intelligent book readers, alternating between tapping back to our old school days, rereading classics we paid just enough attention to in order to pass our English tests, to the newest, most talked about new books that were climbing up the New York Times bestseller list.
We managed to keep it going for almost a year, but by the end, Lauren had moved away and the newest members were so well-spoken and worldly, I found myself shrinking back, quietly making generic and obvious comments just to appear smart enough. I came down here and was happy to connect with my first friend, Kim, who then introduced me to her friend, Rachel. Kim was kind enough to invite me along to their usual lunch meet-ups and I immediately felt comfortable and connected with them. On about the third or fourth lunch date I mentioned that I had been in a book club back up North and would love to start one fresh again. They both jumped on board and that day we decided on a book to read. It went well, reading a thriller one month, Fifty Shades of Grey another, but eventually our busy lives took over and we all agreed to put the official book club to bed. Instead we went back to what we did before, chatting and laughing over sandwiches and salads, trying out new restaurants (which will hopefully get rolled into a new blog, coming soon!) and enjoying general revelry.
Still, I wanted an excuse to meet more new people AND do something that I felt comfortable enough doing. Hence, my agreement to join the book club of a girl I had met only a handful of times. I contacted Kim and Rachel, hoping that perhaps they would be interested in attending with me. Kim was unable to commit but Rachel expressed interest, so I passed along all the info I recieved to her, relieved that I would have someone with me.
The night before the big day, I got a frantic text from Rachel. She was at the hospital with her husband who had just broken his foot. She apologized profusely, and while I was completely understanding of her circumstances, my stomach dropped to my knees. I had been basing much of my comfort level on having a wing woman with me, and my initial reaction was to bail on the whole thing. Instead, I took a deep breath and gave myself a pep talk. You can do this, I thought, and if for nothing else, maybe it will be good for the blog.
With that, the next day I carefully selected my clothes, heated up my little spinach and artichoke dip to take along, and drove out to the host-girl's apartment. I arrived, miraculously, on time and without getting lost. In fact, as I was pulling in, I noticed the person behind me was actually the girl who had invited me. Ok, this won't be so bad, I thought.
As we entered the apartment, everyone was still busily chatting amongst themselves. No one even seemed to notice there was a stranger in their midst. My sponsor began introducing me to the group and as she went around the room, it went silent. I made a quick assessment of each girl. There was the Fit Mom, the Tough Business Woman, the Cool Quiet One, the One-That-is-Everything-I-Wish-I-Could-Be-but-Aren't. It was as if all the voids in my personality had been split apart and been created into each of these women. I felt totally out of my element. I could feel the plastic container of spinach artichoke dip rewarming in my hot sweaty hand.
After introductions were made, I tried to carefully walk over to the snack table that had been set up. The whole apartment looked like something out of Pinterest, and I was careful not to nudge a single artfully stacked book or vintage candleholder. I then took a seat on the sofa and after the initial discussion of the book waned, I waited for my in into a conversation; preparing to delight the crowd with a well-placed quip or pun, thereby winning approval and several pats on the back. Belonging. And yes, my daydreams really do play out the same way as Zack Morris's on Saved By the Bell.
I sat there, smiling blindly, and with every chance I captured I launched a clever or funny comment out. Unfortunately, every one either went over their heads or was trampled over with other conversations. I started to feel sunk. I need to talk to someone so that I can be better integrated into the group.
I started talking to the girl who brought me and was starting to make some progress when all of a sudden, her phone buzzed. As she glanced down at it and read it, she suddenly fell very quiet. She began to whisper that she had to go, holding back tears. She got up and explained to everyone that the dog she walks had suddenly been taken to the hospital and she needed to go. As she rushed out, I felt just as I had when Rachel texted me about her husband- understanding yet disappointed. There was a strong urge in me to rush to her side and say I had to go too, terrified to be left alone. I didn't even think about this poor girl's emotional state. All I could think at the time was- I being abandoned for a hurt dog??
After she had gone, I was really out in the woods. Alone. I tried to limp along into any conversation that would have me. Then when the meeting was wrapping up, they mentioned the book they had chosen. Divergent. I tried to hold back my groan and secretly hoped we could choose something else. Nothing against Divergent, but I just have a low tolerance for those Young Adult books- especially after we read the Host with my girls and I just barely got through that one without wanting to toss the book into a lit fireplace.
When everything was said and done, the cool leader asked if I had any questions. I mentioned that my friend Rachel was hoping to join too, she had just had a family emergency.
"Ok, well, we will pass that along to our friend Shannon and make sure that's ok," she said, looking down into her laptop.
What do you mean you have to make sure it's ok? I thought. And who is this mystical magical Shannon that needs to bestow approval? I thought a book club was a free-for-all liberal commune where all were welcome, provided they bring cheap wine or bean dip.
All in all, I doubt I'll go again (or even be asked to after this has been posted). No one was rude or mean, but I just felt too much of an outsider to feel welcome again. I wish them well, and hope they have another five years of book-reading.
Who am I kidding- they lost me at Divergent.
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