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Somebody Owes Me

Somebody Owes Me

October 2015, my niece who lives in North Carolina flew down to Birmingham. She entered an essay competition for any citizen of North Carolina to roar for the drivers of the NASCAR Race from North Carolina in the Talladega NASCAR Race. Of course she won! She and her daughter were put up at a hotel in Hoover. She was was given a rental car to drive any place she wanted to go. She was also given free food and spending change. It was a pretty good deal. Okay?
While she was here we made a family gathering out of it. Her mother and her brother came up from Tuskegee, Alabama. Her cousin and her daughter met us for dinner Sunday night at Logan’s in East Birmingham. We all laugh and talked about the good old days. That was quite amusing to my two great nieces. We talked and talked until eventually the conversation moved to some of Birmingham’s finnier restaurants.
I had to tell them of an experience I had a the restaurant called “The Club”, one of Birmingham’s finest. The “The Club” has a long historical history.
One fine autumn evening, I received in the U.S. Mail an invitation Hosted by the United Nations Chapter to an event at the “The Club”. I often received such invitations because at the time, I was President of the City Federation of Women and Youth Clubs, Inc. At the same time, my husband was a Scout Master and all of the City’s Eagle Scouts held their induction ceremony at the “The Club”. We both had been there on several occasions. I went to the room where I usually would go for any special occasion. Unknowing to me, the Alabama Republicans were having a meeting there. At the door, I was asked who sent my invitation. Not knowing I was in the wrong room, I said my invitation came from the president. They not knowing I was in the wrong room thought I meant the President of the United Sates.
I was handed a beautiful basket full of fine cheese and crackers from all over the world and age old fine wine. I was told to go mingle. I asked the door keeper where I was supposed to sit. I was told the room was mine. Sit anywhere I choose to sit. I do not remember, but I think George Bush was the President and they probably thought I was Condoleezza Rice.
I choose not to mingle but I sat at an empty table waiting for a familiar face. I saw the ticket collector looking at my invitation with a weird expression on her face. She speedily came to my table and announced she had made a colossal mistake and took back my prized basket. That was so wrong. The Republicans owe me a gift basket. It is not polite to give someone something then take it back.
My family thought that was a funny story.  However, it is true. The Republicans do owe me a basket.