Thursday, July 26, 2012
Oh, is that my phone ringing?
For knit night, we gather around a long row of small tables in the front of the coffee shop. Naturally, sitting at one of the center tables is best since that puts you in the middle of the action. That's where I feel I belong. It's where all the cool knitters (I know, it's a redundant description) sit. Instead, I've been finding myself stuck at the far-far-as-far-away-as-possible table. I think if a vote were to be taken, the table would be moved two stores over. And even then there would be a scramble to sit on the other side of the store away from it.
Just to be clear, the knitters are good people. And they would never intentionally snub someone, or tell someone that they weren't welcome in the group. But they're also human, and have normal self-preservation instincts. Which means that sometimes it becomes a matter of every knitter for themselves. I just don't have the patience that I once did. So tonight I found myself pretending to get a phone call (it's easy to fake hearing the phone ring when the other person is partially deaf). And then I lied* to my friends so that I could have a polite way of escaping. I don't know who became the next sacrifice once I left. I'm not sure I care right now - it is, after all, every knitter for themselves.
Luckily, the Saturday group (although composed of the very same people) is felt to be too cliquey and as such has been able to stick together at just the one table. So until things change, I'll be getting my fiber-fix on Saturdays instead of Thursdays.
*Editing to note that the lie mentioned was that I had to leave right away. The rest of my explanation was true. I might have been desperate enough to use it as an excuse, but I'm not so depraved that I would invent a relative's illness.