We’ve all received them either by snail mail, a note stuffed in
your mailbox without postage, or by e-vite.
We’ve all received them either by snail mail, a note stuffed in your mailbox without postage, or by e-vite. The invitation looks like a party with all the trimmings but alas they are a night of in-home shopping. The trend is getting damned annoying. Amway has been replaced by party shopping for upscale clothes, jewelry, megabucks jeans, skin products, candles, kitchenware and every husband’s favorite (you have no budget for that one, honey!) intimate apparel and all the other associated accoutrements. Besides, the hostess gift must be some humdinger to rope your friends, colleagues and neighbors into spending money on something they hadn’t dreamed of purchasing before this soiree. A night at one of these parties could buy dinner at a four-star restairamt in San Francisco! But of course, you are under no obligation to buy. Yeah, right. And look like your husband has you on a budget in front of the ladies? No way. And yes, I’ve checked with my accountant – no write off.
So I get a call last week from a friend inviting me to her house for an evening with the ladies. Hmmm. A phone call. No e-vite. No e-mail, postcard, or card in a fancy white envelope. I’m suspicious.
“What kind of evening?” I ask.
“Oh, I just thought it would be nice for everyone to get together for dinner. I’m grilling salmon. Just bring a side dish to share,” she says.
“Do I have an assigned dish?’ I query, still wondering when the sales pitch would happen.
“No, whatever you like,” said the kind voice.
“Really?”
“Really.”
Now it’s more common to have couples for dinner and no shopping, but to have a group of women to your home without shoving an order form or catalog in front of them as soon as they finish their glass of wine – it’s unheard of these days.
All day Saturday I relished the thought of relaxing with lady friends, eating our home-cooked meal and yakking up a storm, not to be interrupted by the salesperson with her calculator on the coffee table and a stop time of 9:30pm.
I couldn’t stand it any longer. I piped up while we were opening the corks on the wine. “So, what’s the occasion? Why are we here?”
“My husband’s out of town and the girls are at a party.”
“Wow, here’s to an empty house filled up again with friends!” We toasted and served up the meal perfectly balanced with no assignments and no duplicates. Grilled salmon with a mango-chutney sauce from Trader Joe’s, spicy rice, roasted vegetables, whipped red potatoes with the skins and a pound of butter, salad and chocolate-dipped everything for dessert. One round of a board game, more yakking and the final farewells ended a fairly cheap night. Our host had the right idea. I thanked her endlessly for the invitation to a sincere party.
Ciao for now.
