Parker Does Drawnwork (Interior Monologue)

"...Wish I had something to do! I hate to be a mere drone. People ought to let you know when they're going to sit you next to a thing like this so you could bring along some means of occupation.

'Dear Mrs. Parker, do come to us on Friday next and don't forget your drawnwork.'

I could have brought my top bureau-drawer and tidied it up! Here on my lap. I could have made great strides towards getting those photographs of the groups on the beach pasted up in the album. Wonder if my hostess would think it strange if I asked for a pack of cards?

...

I'm better than anybody at this table. But am I really? Have I, after all, half of what they have? Here I am, lonely, unwanted, silent. And me with all my new clothes on! Oh, what would Louise Boulanger say if she saw her gold lamé going unnoticed like this? It's life, I suppose. Poor little things, we dress, and we plan, and we hope. And for what? What is life, anyway? A death sentence. The longest distance between two points.

...

Oh! Here we are at the entrecôte. 'Button up your entre-coat when the winter's...' ...I guess not.

...

Isn't that my life, though, to sit here all dressed up in my best, and listen to this thing talk about Romaine. And all the time, right on my right..."


No spoilers here! Oh, to be sat next to a bore.

Christina Pickles reads Dorothy Parker's short story, "But The One on the Right..." for Selected Shorts.