A few weeks ago I was invited to an evening cocktail party at a friend’s house – promised to be a fun evening.  Of course I offered to bring something and was told that an appetizer would be great.

Last week the hostess sent an email around to all of us who had offered to bring an appetizer so that she could get an idea of what was coming.  My original intention was to being edamame humus with pita chips but by the time the email got to me there were at least 5 other dip-type items on it so I decided to do something different – Chex Party Mix.  So that’s what I wrote.

I mean everyone likes that, right?  And it goes well with cocktails and there would be MEN there and from what I understand men aren’t generally all that excited about dips.  Anyway, I didn’t give it another thought.

Until Saturday afternoon.

I called a girlfriend of mine (actually the friend through whom I know the hostess) who was also going to coordinate rides, etc.  We were chatting about this and that and then she asked me – were you serious about the Chex Party Mix?  Of course, I answered, why?

Apparently some of the women WHO I DON”T EVEN KNOW! saw it listed on the email and got their knickers in a serious knot.  WHO is this person? they demanded.  What kind of person brings a bag of bits & bites to an adult cocktail party??!!  seriously, apparently there was an entire day of emails like that – totally trash-talking this insolent gatecrasher and her audacity in thinking that this was acceptable party fare.

OH. MY. GOD!!!!  These women are all in their mid to late 40’s and early 50’s. Professionals for the most part.  But way bitchy and petty apparently.

I assured my friend that I was in no way bringing a vacu-sealed bag of bits and bites to the party – I was in fact in the middle of making home-made Chex Party Mix – with pecans and almonds and three types of organic cereals and Chinese noodles.  This was not your 1970’s housewife party mix.

and don’t think I wasn’t tempted to go to the corner store and buy a bag and bring it with a 6-pack of no-name pop.

But I didn’t.  Because I am better than that.

The party was fun.  My Chex Mix a huge hit – it was the ONLY dish from the table that made its way to the kitchen and was surrounded by all the men.

And I found out who started the mean emails and it was none other than that bitch who last year stuck me with $150 of a group bill AFTER going on and on and on about how much money she and her husband make.  And of course she pretended not to have ever met me before.

Karma’s a bitch, babe, that’s what I have to say to you.

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