Sunday lunch with the MIX5 gang.
After MIX3 suffered a crushing defeat one – nill where the one came when she was in goal. Objectively, her team allowed the oppo to center the ball about ten feet from the net with no one marking anyone. Once the girl controlled the centering pass, MIX3 was “her lunch meat”.
At dinner afterward, MIX3 was perusing the dinner choices, reading them to MIX2, who then asked her “if she thought everyone was illiterate”. (That was funny?)
Then I asked the young Miss MIX3 what she was having. “Maybe beef, but it’s expensive.”
(Ahh, always nice when people try to save Our Girl some money. Wasn’t like I was paying. After all these are HER relatives. Mine don’t want to socialize with me. Which is cheaper on my wallet. What did Groucho say? “I wouldn’t want to be a member of any club that would have me as a member.” This was coming from Our Girl’s wallet.)
This lead to the topic of “Madame’s menu” or “Ladies’ Menus”.
And, the infamous family story about how when Our Girl would take MIX1, her Mom (Our Girl’s much OLDER sister, who is MIX3’s now ELDERLY grandmother; not young like me), and Brothers (MIX3’s uncles) out for a seafood dinner, MIX’1s Mom would give all the kids the “stink eye” to order something inexpensive. To which, she and Our Girl would discuss “who was paying”.
After that trip, I was ALWAYS instructed to ask for the “Gentlemen’s menu”. Which at most restaurants that had menus, as opposed to signs over the cashier, meant I’d get one with prices and the rest party got the ones without.
MIX1 and her brothers thought that was funny.
Being properly whipped, I, of course, made a big fanfare of giving Our Girl the “Gentlemen’s Menu” in exchange for her “Ladies Menu”. (Hey, I was secure in my sexuality. I knew who she was going home with. VaVaVoom!)
Of course, MIX1 and her brothers thought that was even funnier.
Not that you you couldn’t tell what was the most expensive dishes were. And shrimp cocktails were / are never cheap.
But Our Girl was out for a good time.
So, I explained “Ladies’ Menus” to a bemused MIX3. She, of course, sharp as a tack, re-queried: “But then how does a woman know how much things cost?” I explained that was the point. And threw in that on a date, the Gentlemen never expected a Lady to make her choices based on price. MIX3 ended the lecture with: “That’s dumb!”.
(I forgot to tell MIX3 that back in the Dark Ages, the Sixities, when I was dating, and before there were “credit cards”, I had TWO extra cnotes in my wallet so I’d never be caught short. I only had to use one a few times. The meal was worth it; the date not so much. Reminds me that I “kissed a lot of frogs” in my day. Some of them were really good kissers. But most had their “warts” on their noses and were easy to spot. And just as easy to drop. A few, you had to get to know them well, to see their “warts”. And, no, in my day, there was no undressing involved in order to see “warts”. Marriage was such a quaint institution; with no pre-martial sex. I missed the “free love” era. My wife informed me I missed nothing. And, even if I hadn’t missed it, that I wouldn’t have had a large contribution to make or been in much demand. [I think that was “harsh”.])
(I could have also told MIX3 that Our Girl’s Mom pinned “mad money” to Our Girl’s slip and bra strap. But that was probably TMI for a young pre-teen girl to heard from her “uncle”. I’ll let Mom and Dad handle that; much like I do Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and other myths and legends. I never did figure out if that “pin money” was supposed to be a lojack of sorts, or the Sixties version of tamper proof packaging. And, in case you’re wondering how I knew — minds out of the gutter — you could feel it when we were dancing. Being “that close” was OK for “steadies” (i.e., no room for the Holy Ghost). Wasn’t until we were engaged, with a wedding date, that her Mom stopped doing that little Irish custom. Maybe her Mom knew just how “hot” Our Girl was. But that’s for another blog post.)
So, upon resting up from my trek down 95, I decided to blog about a casualty of the women’s movement — “the Ladies’ Menu”.
It was a gentler time.
To quote Ms Swift: “Waz it worth it? … … Noooooo!”
Kinda was a simpler and gentler time. When men were allowed to lead. And, women … … were the force behind the throne.
Not so sure that both men and women didn’t lose when that changed.
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