"For the first time in the history of book club, I can't make it to book club. The scheduling conflict arises late in the day, which is galling because I've already read the book, and I can't very well unread it. You won't be missed, my wife says. Are you kidding? I say. Everyone will be gutted. I had a lot of insights ready. You're not even really in book club, she says. I am the beating heart of book club, I say."
"Here's what happened: my wife started a book club with four local women. The first meeting was at our house, and although I wasn't invited, I noticed that fine cheeses were being served. I dutifully shut myself up in the living room for the first half hour, but when I realised the book club was standing between me and my next glass of wine, I crept into the kitchen, where the women were sitting round the table with paperbacks in their hands, eating cheese."
"My wife tried to bar me from subsequent meetings, but by then I was in the WhatsApp club. Membership of book club has expanded and shrunk slightly since then for a while there was even another man in it, but for the past five years I've been the only one. And in all that time I've maintained a perfect attendance record."
A man repeatedly attends his wife's women-only book club after initially sneaking in for cheese and wine. He joined the group's WhatsApp and became a regular participant despite not being formally invited. Membership has fluctuated; he was briefly one of two men but has been the only male member for five years and kept a perfect attendance record. A late scheduling conflict forces him to miss a meeting for the first time. He texts an apologetic message offering cancellation and receives a casual reply that they will manage without him, then sees post-meeting gossip that highlights his exclusion.
Read at www.theguardian.com
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