Darcy shares hilarious stories on her blog right out of the pages of her life that include some of her most embarrassing moments and outrageous blunders. I'm laughing WITH her, not AT her, when I read her posts because they're so relatable.
This funny lady is a BlogHer Humor Voty award winner two years in a row, now. She is THAT GOOD! Please welcome Darcy to Meno Mama's site today with lots of comment love!
Smackdown: Old Biddies vs. Rowdy Moms
By Darcy Perdu
So then…we shriek with laughter, pounding our fists on the table, slapping our thighs – with tears rolling down our faces.
The diners at the tables near us turn to look, so we shush each other, giggling like schoolgirls.
It’s Mom’s Night Out and the four of us are lettin’ off steam, swillin’ cocktails, and skewering our husbands, our kids, and ourselves. No one’s safe from our mockery and teasing, including each other. We’re swapping stories, revealing embarrassing moments, and asking those awkward personal questions you can only ask your really close girlfriends.
We’re trying to be considerate of our fellow restaurant patrons, but we’re on a roll – chatting and laughing and -- yes, even squealing. Either we are downright HILARIOUS – or these cocktails are mighty potent!
Most people are engaged in their own conversations, but there’s one table of elderly diners who keep eyeing us. Every time a gust of laughter bellows from our table, the white-haired ladies look our way and their husbands frown in our direction.
We pull back to a dull roar, but then the stories start again and we’re chattering away like magpies.
As I’m gesticulating wildly to illustrate my story, a server approaches our table. I quickly sit on my hands.
(Just last week I was out to dinner with my Mom, friends, and kids at a lovely restaurant, where I told a similar story that required enthusiastic hand gestures. Just as a server walked by, my sudden arm movements smacked into his tray and shot his entrees and drinks in all directions!
I was mortified, of course, and rushed to help him. Everyone at our table was shocked and attending to the disaster throughout the aisle – except for my Mom who calmly continued eating her clam chowder while the server frantically wiped steak sauce from her shoe. Ain’t nobody gettin’ between my mama and her chowder.
When the manager rushed over, I apologized profusely, but he cut me off gracefully and said that the restaurant bears full responsibility and could they please comp my mother’s meal?
Hells yeah! We made sure that the server wasn’t in trouble (he wasn’t) -- and once all was cleaned up, we commenced eating -- and talking (albeit a bit more calmly than before).
Mom noted that the chowder was delicious.
My kids urged me to “Tell more stories! Tell more stories!” so we could upend more trays and get more meals comped.)
So you can see why I’m a bit nervous tonight that we’re making such a ruckus at this restaurant. I don’t want any more flying entrees – and I certainly don’t want any disgruntled customers complaining that we’re too noisy.
So we keep our voices low, eat some, drink some, laugh a little, drink some more, laugh a lot, and before you know it, we’re giggling and guffawing, chortling and snorting.
The four elder patrons keep looking over here. I just know we’re moments away from an intervention.
Finally they finish their meals and the men head for the front door, but the two older ladies approach our table!
My girlfriends and I freeze.
Here we are, mothers ourselves, about to be reprimanded by women who are the age of OUR mothers. I’m having flashbacks to my Catholic school days when the disapproving nuns would scold our rowdy behavior.
I immediately stammer, “I’m so sorry if we disrupted your dinner by being so loud!”
The taller lady says, “Not at all! We just came to say you girls look like you’re having a blast!”
“Yeah,” says the shorter one. “We kept wishing we were at YOUR table instead of with THOSE guys!” She points her thumb over her shoulder at the husbands picking up mints at the hostess stand.
We die laughing! “Then come sit with us!” we say. We scoot over in the booth to make room for them, but they laugh and say they have to go.
“We just wanted to say it was great to see you girls out having such a good time and so full of energy,” says the taller one. “Enjoy your night! You deserve it!” They smile and leave to join their husbands.
We take a moment of silence to let that sink in.
First of all, those old biddies are THE BOMB.
Second of all, I hope when I’m their age, I have the same joie de vivre and appreciation for fun and laughter and lettin’ loose -- instead of being an old stodgy judgmental curmudgeon!
And third of all, my girlfriends and I cherish that unspoken reminder to “Live, baby, live! Love, laugh, enjoy, go wild, be rowdy, have a frikkin’ BLAST – ‘cause it all goes by really fast.”
-- Darcy Perdu
(Ever get a little rowdy in a public place, laughing so hard with your friends or family? Any restaurant mishaps like the flying entrees? How about a time you thought someone might be judgmental but it all turned out great? Do tell!)
Darcy Perdu shares funny true tales about her awkward adventures, embarrassing kids, exasperating coworkers, and the ever-perplexing public at www.SoThenStories.com – then invites you to share your related stories. So the laughs keep snowballing – come join the fun! Darcy’s delighted to win a Humor VOTY Award from BlogHer in 2013 and 2014 – and hopes you’ll visit her blog to find out “what’s so damn funny?”
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