Monday, June 4, 2012

Soup Kitchen Day

I could have been walking into my grandmother's kitchen, for the savory smells that wafted past my nose - but then neither of my grandmothers could cook so it had to be something else. In fact, I was walking into the Bridge Center and the only explanation for the delectable bouquet was a PARTY! It was party day in the Life Masters' room! Or what I like to call, Soup Kitchen Day.

Roast beef, fried chicken, cheesy potatoes...need I say more? Ok. Chocolate cake, lemon cookies and something wonderful with lots of whipped cream all over it, too. We of the non-life-masters ilk were informed by our director, "You have been invited to get some lunch if there's anything left when they are through." But we were instructed that only four people could go in the room at a time and we must be very quiet so as not to disturb the players.

Our game is played right through lunchtime so we NLMs have to bring our lunches. We have been admonished NOT to bring anything with an unpleasant oder that would cause discomfort to other players so tuna salad is banned and probably limburger cheese sandwiches as well. My partner eats Chex Mix and candy. Barb always has yogurt. I enjoy baloney.

But on Soup Kitchen Day the baloney goes in the trash and I line up like a homeless person to get my share of delicious. 

The hospitality break was declared, it was time to get in line. But I was at the wrong end of the room. Oh, no! It would take an olympian to get past all the tables and players and in the line before time was up. I sprinted. I hurdled. I high jumped. But to no avail. I was ninth. Four were in the party room filling their plates and four were in line ahead of me. 

I peeked past the people in front of me and saw swirls of steam rise from the warming pans. I saw the fluffy white whipped cream delight sitting haughtily among the lesser desserts. Then the buzzer rang. Time was up. I dolefully turned away, retrieved my sandwich from the trash and went to my next table.  


No comments:

Post a Comment