Once again, my friend Rosemarie (Louise) and I (Thelma) have a story to tell. As you know from other columns, mayhem follows us: Going to dinner during a winter Nor’easter, riding in a bus along the Atlantic Ocean as the waves broke over the road during a fall Nor’easter or racing with lights flashing and Roe madly waving out the window to get a tour bus to wait for us. 

Last week, the Singles Club held its Holiday Dinner in the Heritage Room. We enjoyed a delicious dinner, fabulous music by “Sounds Familiar,” plenty of line dancing—all types--and singing. Our table—Rosemarie, Reggie, Pat, Barbara, Pauline, Connie, Jan and I--was high energy and got into the spirit big time! It was pure joy and fun. A special thanks for a Herculean effort by Pat, Pauline, Olga and Diane to put together this jubilant beginning to the holiday season (please accept my apologies if I missed anyone).

Most of my friends and family kid me about my large, heavy pocketbooks. I tell them I carry my life in those bags and the weight is from my Glock. Anyway, Roe’s cell phone was too big for her small clutch pocketbook; she asked if I would put the phone in my bag. I said: “Sure, but let’s not forget I have it.”

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“No, that won’t happen because you’re taking me home and I’ll retrieve it once we get into the driveway.” No problem, right? Wrong! Remember, we’re the Heritage Hills’s Thelma and Louise.

On the drive home, Roe’s red and green balloons were bouncing around in the back of my SUV and I really couldn’t use my rear view mirror which was kind of dicey. But we arrived safely at Roe’s home and out of the car she went, balloons in hand, small clutch--no phone.

As soon as I got home, on went my warm nightgown and equally warm lavender bathrobe and slippers. My plan was to watch a little TV and then bedtime with fun memories dancing in my head. My phone rang:

“You have my phone.” 

“You’re kidding!”

“Nope, check your pocketbook.”

Sure enough, there it was, nestled in a zipped pocket to keep it safe.

“I’m in my pajamas, slippers and robe and will quickly drive over and pick it up.”

“I’ll be waiting.” 

I stood by the open front door and watched for her headlights as she came up the street—I’d go out, didn’t want her to have to leave the warm car. As she pulled into my driveway, I came out in all my bedtime glory and handed her the phone through the open window.

“Can you believe this picture? Two very mature ladies parading/driving around in the quiet neighborhood in their pajamas and robes.” 

Roe was wearing pajamas under a soft, fluffy robe with big flowers on the side and warm, pink slippers. We burst out laughing further affirming that Thelma and Louise had risen to the occasion, once again! Thank you for the fun, laughs and camaraderie, my friend.

Paul says he enjoys reading about our escapades. “But don’t go driving off any cliffs, Mom.” Nah, son, we’re too busy gearing up for the next adventure.