October 2011

Women Are Proof That Practice Makes Perfect

Friends do favors for friends. It's like unminted coinage and there is no formal exchange rate. You just know that helping a friend clean her teenage son's room while he's away at camp equals a day of tying ribbon around net bags of mints and Jordan almonds for a 400 person wedding reception, that a 2 a.m. airport ride is balanced by feeding the cats for a week's vacation.

So when Lily called and asked for a favor, I immediately said yes.

"You haven't asked what it is."

"Does it involve huge amounts of cash?"

"No."

"Parting with a major organ?"

"No."

"Felony charges?"

"No."

"Name it."

"Going to see Leonard Vincent at the Comedy Tonight club. Charlie won tickets from some radio station. Ev and I don't mind his HBO specials, but I'm busy and Ev hates seeing comedians live."

"No way to fast forward through the dull or offensive stuff. Sure, I'll do it. When?"

"Um—tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?"

"She just won the tickets. Actually, I won them, since I'm over 18. She shoved the phone in my hands as soon as the DJ said, 'Caller number nine, you're the winner this hour!'"

I laughed. Smart kid. "Yeah, I can do it. Where and when?"

Ducky and I juggled plans, and that Saturday Ev dropped Charlie off at the store and she and I went out for a girls' night out. Free tickets—with a minimum food purchase/cover charge. Prices weren't bad; we could only hope the food wasn't, either.

We were halfway through our pretty good burgers when the show started. Leonard Vincent is known for being caustic, witty and a little verbose—and literate. He has fun shredding the English language and the logic (or lack) of spelling and pronunciation. His 'reviews' of movies are usually scathing and creative (even the ones he likes). Celebrity faux pas and frailties are, to him, like high grade catnip is to Foot and Pye. He rarely drops to the depths of racist or sexist comments, unless it's to make a specific point.

So it was a surprise to hear his opening remarks somewhere beyond 'take my wife, please.' Women were money grubbing 'hos' out to get anything they can; if you can't get a 'broad' into bed by the 3rd date, 'ditch the bitch,' if you don't get a pre-nup, don't get her a ring—so forth and so on.

From the nervous titters, I wasn't the only one surprised by his not normal rant. Charlie looked startled, to say the least. About the time I was ready to suggest we bail and go to a movie, he launched into an assault on why his now ex fourth wife is considered a money grubbing ho and so forth.

Charlie smiled scathingly and gave a slow, wise nod. Leaning over, she murmured, "Bitter, party of one… your table is ready…"