I’m the young pup in this neighborhood.  I don’t play Bunko, but I’m going to tonight.  My best neighbor friend wants to join the monthly Bunko club, but she’s afraid.  I understand.  This place is full of gossip…so many secrets with spies on duty 24/7.  If I accidently leave my garage door up, I can be assured at least 2-3 neighbors will tour my house looking for my dead body, checking out closets, reading mail or whatever they do when they can run around unsupervised in my home.  Hot gossip issues include messed up families (what kind of a mother was she?), old man boyfriends (she might be a slut), and serious curb appeal competitions (I had that fountain first).

Bunko night I look outside at our designated time to walk to the host’s house.  In my driveway are seven women ranging in age 70 to 88.  I join them and they tell me we are waiting on the new neighbor who wants my job.  When she moved in she called to see if I could get her an application, asked me what I did, then told me she’d like my job.  Before hanging up she told me she’d been in my house, but bought her house because she liked it better.   She appears.  She’s my age.  She looks normal, but once she begins chatting it’s phone call deja vu.

We walk past about six homes and arrive.  Inside there are several 50-60 yr. olds.  Where do these women live?  I want to meet them, but immediately 85-yr-old Lou says, “Debi, get over here.  I want you to sit by me because you’re fun.”  Who argues with a loud senior?  I sit down.  There are about 15 women standing around.  There is a beautiful spread of food and drink; enough to serve fifty.  The host begins moving women to different tables.  Lou says to me, “Don’t move.”   Then she tells her other favorites to “sit down”.  I love a bossy old lady.

By 7:30 we are all settled and ready to begin Bonko.  Lou is keeping score, but she has it so screwed up… she says we’ll guess our scores.  Okay.  We finish our game.  Even guessing we all lose.  It’s 9 p.m. and everyone is tired.  They split up the goodies and head home.

I’m thinking – “I hope when I grow up, I’m just like Lou. Kind of bossy and a little crazy.”

Oh…the younger ladies live on the other side of the neighborhood.  They did not laugh nearly as much as me and the old ladies.  Hmmm…maybe I’m blooming where I’m planted.