OUTLAWS

“Do you remember my set of in-laws?” Joyce said. “They were like a hideous set of salt and pepper shakers I had to keep putting out on the table even though I hated them –because they’d been a gift.”

“Oh yeah,” I said. “Hideous is right.”

“That was way back in our suburban housewife days, when I still gave a shit about adhering to the rules of the enclave I was pretending I belonged to.”

“Oh, I remember that,” I said.

“Sometimes I look at pictures from those days and just cringe. I see this poor carefully sculpted politically correct woman manikin. Perfect make-up, perfect eyebrows, color coordinated outfits, why I wouldn’t even leave the house unless everything matched.”

“Everything?” I asked.

“Yep. I can’t tell you how many times I changed purses just to go to the grocery store.”

“My god!”

“I know –but the worse thing was how I felt inside.” Joyce sighed. “I felt so…invisible, and paranoid too, of course.”

“Of course.”

“Yeah, like one day the suburban fashion police would catch me in my secret cotton underwear or my raggedy sweats, and the jig would be up.”

“You mean like those sweats?” I asked, pointing at her lap.

“They still make a statement, don’t they?” Joyce laughed. “Remember that old ad jingle, ‘you’ve come a long way baby.’? They were talking about cigarettes but that’s not what I heard.”

“Me neither.” I said.

“Remember how good it felt to quit all the maintenance and up-keep, and just let your own real self come out?”

“I sure do. What a relief. Too bad it took us so long.” I said.

“Well yeah, I agree. But it would have taken longer if we hadn’t had each other.” Joyce said.

“And Roweena, and Sandy, and Beatrice! Remember her? What a group we were. Remember what we called each other?” I asked Joyce.

“How could I ever forget,” She said.

And then we both shouted in unison and defiance like the old days; “The Out-laws!”