she is intolerable. No wonder her husband turned homosexual. Oh yes, common knowledge. Audubon Park shelter number four. Please don’t come over, oh please oh please … Oh, hello Doris dear,” Vilma drawled, pure saccharin.
Doris was the sort of person who read reviews of theatre and books rather than experiencing them herself, then would quote the critics as if their words were her own. Although she was president of the Opera Guild, she knew nothing about opera and actually had to take No-Doz to remain awake during
Carmen
, no less. The only reason she vaguely recognized the melodies was because of reruns of
Gilligan’s Island
that featured the classic Verdi score as the basis for a musical version of
Hamlet
.
“Hello, ladies, Miss Hazel, Miss Gayle, what brings y’all to the Quarter today?”
They all knew better than to answer, because before they could even start, she went on, “I am having lunch with some dear college sorority sisters from Jackson, and then we are going to have a good ol’ time spending our husbands’ money over by Holmes’s for a start.”
A telltale sign of class level in the Big Easy lay in whether one pronounced the name of the popular department store D. H. Holmes in the possessive. Doris continued, “I intend on wearing down the little letters on my New Orleans Shopper Card. Do y’all have one? It’s a dream, I tell you, a modern miracle of a dream. They just put these letters on your plastic card …”
Moozie mentioned that they all had a New OrleansShopper Card, but it went unnoticed as Doris continued rambling. So Moozie just buttered the hot French bread before it cooled. She wasn’t about to miss out on one of her favorites because of this overprivileged, underaccomplished twit.
“…
G
is for Godchaux’s,
K
is for Kreeger’s,
MB
is for Maison Blanche, and so on. And they just send the bill. Just like here, don’t you just love having a house charge at restaurants? We have one at all the ones we love, it just makes it so much easier, not having to deal with dirty cash. I love just saying ‘house charge,’ it’s so much more refined, like a country club. Gayle, we missed you at the Crippled Children’s Hospital Guild meeting this morning, and both you girls don’t forget the Protestant Home for Unwed Mothers tea on Thursday. I tell you, my darling hubby is a living doll, he really is, I don’t know what I did to deserve such a sweetie, I honestly don’t. I am a member of a bajillion organizations, president of two, vice president of one, and secretary of another, and he never complains about all the fundraisers and galas and all that jazz. Not a peep. I do declare he is an angel, an angel on earth. Did you all hear about Sue and Pierre? Separated. He was shacking up with something on the side just blocks from here.”
Mother stared past Doris and muttered the word “Angel.”
With this, Doris stopped flapping, pulled her head back, and squinted, saying “I beg your pardon, Gayle dear.”
Vilma took her wounded sister’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze as if to revive her from this trance.
Mom smiled and tilted her head slightly, took a sip from her recently delivered drink, and sighed, calling forth ever so slightly Olivia de Havilland’s Melanie. “Well, Doris, it must be just heaven, having an angel for a husband.”
Moozie could stand no more. She’d never liked this woman, no one did. They all tolerated her, but that was about to come to an end. Besides, this was not how she intended to pass this particular luncheon. She said, “I don’t know about you, but I always like a little devil in my men. Get my drift, honey?” She emphasized the word “devil,” raising an eyebrow and buttoning the comment with a wink and a bite of celery.
This retort came as quite a shock to her daughters, but more to Doris, who feigned a giggle that ended as she snorted, “Oh, Miss Hazel, you are a card, and you must be dealt with.”
Moozie’s dander was up,
Doris was the sort of person who read reviews of theatre and books rather than experiencing them herself, then would quote the critics as if their words were her own. Although she was president of the Opera Guild, she knew nothing about opera and actually had to take No-Doz to remain awake during
Carmen
, no less. The only reason she vaguely recognized the melodies was because of reruns of
Gilligan’s Island
that featured the classic Verdi score as the basis for a musical version of
Hamlet
.
“Hello, ladies, Miss Hazel, Miss Gayle, what brings y’all to the Quarter today?”
They all knew better than to answer, because before they could even start, she went on, “I am having lunch with some dear college sorority sisters from Jackson, and then we are going to have a good ol’ time spending our husbands’ money over by Holmes’s for a start.”
A telltale sign of class level in the Big Easy lay in whether one pronounced the name of the popular department store D. H. Holmes in the possessive. Doris continued, “I intend on wearing down the little letters on my New Orleans Shopper Card. Do y’all have one? It’s a dream, I tell you, a modern miracle of a dream. They just put these letters on your plastic card …”
Moozie mentioned that they all had a New OrleansShopper Card, but it went unnoticed as Doris continued rambling. So Moozie just buttered the hot French bread before it cooled. She wasn’t about to miss out on one of her favorites because of this overprivileged, underaccomplished twit.
“…
G
is for Godchaux’s,
K
is for Kreeger’s,
MB
is for Maison Blanche, and so on. And they just send the bill. Just like here, don’t you just love having a house charge at restaurants? We have one at all the ones we love, it just makes it so much easier, not having to deal with dirty cash. I love just saying ‘house charge,’ it’s so much more refined, like a country club. Gayle, we missed you at the Crippled Children’s Hospital Guild meeting this morning, and both you girls don’t forget the Protestant Home for Unwed Mothers tea on Thursday. I tell you, my darling hubby is a living doll, he really is, I don’t know what I did to deserve such a sweetie, I honestly don’t. I am a member of a bajillion organizations, president of two, vice president of one, and secretary of another, and he never complains about all the fundraisers and galas and all that jazz. Not a peep. I do declare he is an angel, an angel on earth. Did you all hear about Sue and Pierre? Separated. He was shacking up with something on the side just blocks from here.”
Mother stared past Doris and muttered the word “Angel.”
With this, Doris stopped flapping, pulled her head back, and squinted, saying “I beg your pardon, Gayle dear.”
Vilma took her wounded sister’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze as if to revive her from this trance.
Mom smiled and tilted her head slightly, took a sip from her recently delivered drink, and sighed, calling forth ever so slightly Olivia de Havilland’s Melanie. “Well, Doris, it must be just heaven, having an angel for a husband.”
Moozie could stand no more. She’d never liked this woman, no one did. They all tolerated her, but that was about to come to an end. Besides, this was not how she intended to pass this particular luncheon. She said, “I don’t know about you, but I always like a little devil in my men. Get my drift, honey?” She emphasized the word “devil,” raising an eyebrow and buttoning the comment with a wink and a bite of celery.
This retort came as quite a shock to her daughters, but more to Doris, who feigned a giggle that ended as she snorted, “Oh, Miss Hazel, you are a card, and you must be dealt with.”
Moozie’s dander was up,
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