Variation on a Theme

“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…

“Math is hard” – said Barbie

The Boy was in a minor car accident last Sunday.  An oncoming truck came towards him (left of center), and he swerved right to avoid being hit, went off the road and scraped up the side of the car on a sign post. He wasn’t hurt, kept going to meet up with his sister, and gave me a ring late Sunday night with details.

After returning home on Monday, i took a look at the damage.  Right front quarter panel, passenger door, and right rear quarter panel were badly crunched, and the front head light would need replacing.  Given that he’s a 19 year old boy (highest insurance bracket), and i’ve already got a very high insurance deductible for my fleet of four shitmobiles, i figured i’d just pay to get it repaired – and not file an insurance claim.

The next day, The Boy took the car into a local body shop*, and got a repair estimate of $2100.  That’s even using recycled parts!  OK.  Decided to file the claim, paying only the $500 deductible.  When i told the insurance rep that i’d already gotten an estimate, she informed me that the shop we’d chosen wasn’t on the “pre-approved” list.  We could either take the car to an “approved” shop for an estimate, or have one of their adjusters come out to write the estimate for the damage.  They’d then cut a check for that amount, minus the $500 deductible, and i would be free to get the work done wherever i wanted to…

Adjuster came out Friday while i was at work.  The Boy called me late in the afternoon with an update.  He was headed out, saw the paperwork stuck to his car, and opened it up to see what the estimate was.  A check for $2300 fell out.  Looking over the estimate, this is what the insurance adjuster would be paying AFTER my deductible.

So, we’ll get the car fixed this week at the body shop that gave us the $2100 estimate.  i pocket $200 – which will likely just offset the increase in my insurance rates as a result of filing the claim.  This stuff is a big ol’ mystery to me… The Boy offered to turn this into more cash, by wrecking some of my other cars, i’m pretty sure that’s a bad plan. 

Beats me, man…

_____

* He’d had work done on his prior car, aka “Shamu”.  The place was good, but about one step up from a chop shop.  Easy on the wallet.  i do believe, however, that duct tape was involved…