Our nerves were shot from thinking about Myrna and Otto’s Christmas visit. We walked around the house like zombies. Max went to meditate and I swam in the pool.
After a while, Max came out to the pool looking relaxed. I was on a chaise listening to the birds sing.
Max sat down next to me. “It’s ridiculous to worry about the visit now. It’s only October for heaven’s sake.
I nodded. “Worrying never does any good.”
Max said, “There’s a Buddhist quote: ‘If you can fix a situation, why worry about it? And if you can’t, worrying won’t fix it.’”
Max said, “There’s a Buddhist quote: ‘If you can fix a situation, why worry about it? And if you can’t, worrying won’t fix it.'”
Just then – ping! – an email from Aunt Daisy.
As you know, my 84th birthday is comin’ up. Ishawana, my boss at the paper, and the girls in the office want to do something special for me. They don’t want to surprise me but want my input. I guess they figure at 84 I might keel over from the shock of a surprise. Anyway, some ideas tossed into the bullring were: an all-you-can-eat breakfast at the pancake house. But that sounds flat. Another idea – the buffet at the Beer Barrel Polka Lounge. — Really! What makes the girls think I want to stuff myself and loose my girlish figure? Not when I have my eye on 51-year old Grady. The girls want to please me but none has lassoed a good idea. You’re both in the entertainin’ biz. Can you think of somethin’’’?
xx Aunt Daisy
“Hmmmmmm……. “ I said. “Any ideas Max?”
“Not right now.”
“Well…… I’m thinking about something that might be Aunt Daisy’s idea of a good time.”
“Yes?” Max said.
I laughed. “Remember that event in Philadelphia with Bunny? She always had a cause that she was raising money for?”
“You mean THAT event? “ Max said, eyebrows lifting.
I nodded and chuckled. “She summoned us to her Rittenhouse apartment to plan something. What cause was it this time we wondered? Whales, seals, dolphins, the children’s hospital, eyeglasses for the needy?”
“I remember it well,” Max said. “The butler led us into the grand living room. There sat Bunny stunning as ever in a blue satin suit and glittery jewelry surrounded by ormolu furniture, Persian carpets and crystal chandeliers – the picture of perfect good taste and decorum. She served tea.”
Bunny said, a naughty glint in her eye, “My 50th is just around the corner and I want something special.”
“Shall we rent the ballroom at the Ritz-Carlton?” Max asked.
Bunny put a finger to her chin. “Brilliant!”
Max continued, “A buffet, dance floor, jazz quartet? How many guests?”
Bunny shook her head. “No, a stage and just my female friends.”
I thought. Huh?????
“I want,” Bunny said, giggling, “the Bend and Snap Boys!”
The cup rattled on the saucer Max was holding. “Who?” He sputtered. “A-a-a-a-re they a string quartet?”
“Oh, how sweet!” Bunny laughed. She bent forward and whispered. “They’re male strippers!”
Was this the oh-so-proper Bunny of the French twist, designer suits, diamonds and antique furniture????
She clapped. “Won’t it be grand? Of course, Sylvia, you’re invited. Max, sorry – you’ll have to stay in the kitchen with the hors d’oeuvres. We’ll need lots of suggestive food – miniature gherkins, stuffed zucchini. You get my drift?” She winked. “Of course, it’s not all selfish. We’ll auction off the boys’ g-strings – cash, no credit cards. Clever, don’t your think?”
We couldn’t refuse. Bunny was our best client.
The party was a rousing success and raked in tons of money for Bunny’s charities.
“So, the point to this story is?” Max asked.
“Aunt Daisy could celebrate at a male stripper club!” I said. “I’ll email her with the news! ………….. Curtain up, pants down!”
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