Getting Through the Rough Spots

Last week my book club met. We read The Gargoyle by Andrew Davidson, which was very good-- although difficult to get through the beginning. The narrator is less than likeable, and much of the description is pretty graphic, but once you get through that it's really a beautiful story. I highly recommend it.

We held book club at one of my favorite places, but not necessarily the best place for book club, as it can get a little loud. The service was also poor. Particularly my service. The server went around to the other end of the table, took other people's orders. I had a Diet Coke because I had arrive before the others, but had been waiting for the rest of the group before ordering food. The server totally ignored me. A part of me wanted to walk out. If I was going to be invisible what sense was in my staying there? But I didn't want to be rude or make a scene, so I stayed.

She left for a while, came back and I was finally able to order. Still, she got my order wrong, but eventually it was corrected. We did have a pretty good discussion of the book despite the noise and the service problems.

The next morning, I stopped for breakfast, getting my usual that I normally get when I go to that breakfast place. It cost me almost $2 more. It turned out my breakfast was on "special." Normally, it includes the drink, but the "special" didn't, so I was charged separately for it. The only reason I ever got the drink was because it was included. I suppose I should've looked at the specials, but here once again, I was left feeling shunned and a bit gargoylish myself. The cashier told me that I would "save" money because I could refill my drink. I was getting ripped off, and being told I was "saving" money. I said it didn't matter, because I wouldn't be back.

But I probably will be back at both places, although maybe it will be a little longer before I am. Because now that I'm finally getting over it, I realize an isolated incident is isolated, and even when they come in succession like that, it doesn't mean the world is out to step on me -- which is how I felt much of that day. I realize that all too often I cast myself as a gargoyle in a world of beauties, a world I have to go out into each day even when it's difficult.

I'm suddenly reminded of the old John Lennon song, Nobody Told Me. Nobody told me there'd be days like these. Some days even the beauties are gargoyles, and even the gargoyles are beautiful. Strange days indeed. We just have to get through them.

Gretchen Lee Bourquin's Blog is syndicated weekly on

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