The Meeting - Part Two

I returned to the sofa, zipper halfway down, button popped, but otherwise my pants remained unscathed. Mary leaned over and showed me the book, which was entirely in Chinese? Japanese? Buddhist? Is that a language? I still have no idea. Everyone introduced themselves and a discussion followed. Interesting points of discussion: Brandy’s dad was a Protestant minister. April, a heavy set brunette with whom no one dared to disagree, rambled on about how she used to work for Jerry Falwell and Scientology, that Buddhism is nothing like religion for dollars, and it is not a cult. Nor is Tom Cruise as short as everyone says he is. Marcia and Evelyn kept trying to make an appointment to come over my house and set up the gohunsun (not sure of spelling), aka magic box that centers your spirit. I didn’t want to spend money on this item. I tried to tell them that my apartment was too small to hold three people, and there was no room for the box. Maybe a matchbox. Couldn’t I use a box from my Manolos? I stand in front of Bergdorf Goodman and that centers my spirit just fine. While everyone read from the book and discussed the origins of Buddhism, goals, etc. one of the words sounded like “Chicken lo Mein”. I longed for the day I would order delivery to my new apartment from the best Chinese restaurant the Upper West Side had to offer. I tried to pay attention, but kept sneaking glances around the room, taking in every detail, pretending that I lived there. When they got very involved in the chanting, I full out stared. I craned my neck toward the door, hoping to see inside the other rooms. If I snuck around the apartment, would someone miss me? Before I had the chance to find out, Brandy asked me to help her end the meeting.