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I’ve been hearing a lot lately about “Sip and Paint” parties. Apparently, friends get together for a relaxing time of creative painting, snacking, drinking and enjoying one another’s company.
I’ve never attended one because I don’t drink alcohol, and I’m pretty sure they’re talking about wine or booze because everyone knows you don’t just sip a Coke. Soda has always been a guzzle beverage, and since it’s not called a “Guzzle and Paint” party, I’ll assume the festivities are fraught with various spirits.
I was more than willing, however, to entertain one of these events if it meant I could get some friends over to my house for a few days of painting and conversation.
I invited friends to my party since most of them are pretty talented and enjoy painting. All they had to do was show up, as I was providing all the materials – including the paints, a variety of brushes, ladders and, of course, snacks and wine.
At first, I was concerned about providing booze while folks were climbing on ladders, but I figured they’re pretty used to it since they’ve been to these painting parties before.
I put a tip jar out, even though it was my first time hosting a “Sip and Paint” party, thinking maybe I’d get lucky and rake in enough money to cover the cost of the supplies, which also included tarps, paint pans, painter’s tape and protective coveralls for my talented guests.
About 12 ladies appeared on my door step with their little brushes in hand, ready to begin. I think they were a bit surprised when I came to the door dressed in old jeans and a ratty T-shirt but, hey, we were getting ready to paint, for cryin’ out loud.
The girls seemed pretty confused as to what was going on, so I informed them that I would like my house painted and invited them over to partake in the painting festivities that would last about four days.
Seven of the artists tucked tail and ran, leaving only five to help me, which would turn our four-day project into eight days. In order to retain the remaining ladies, I told them they could paint their own little artwork on some of the blank canvas baseboards along with their autographs as proof of their work. That seemed to work.
Apparently, some women can blow through wine like I do soda, so I ended up using my Uncle Vinny as the booze runner whenever we ran out, since my husband happily locked himself in his shed.
I think Uncle Vinny was just happy that I invited him over after the pathetic and nightmarish Christmas party he hosted last year that sent several folks to the emergency room and me swearing I’d never speak to him again. Perhaps it was just the thought of ladies on ladders that made him smile – luckily for everyone, they all wore pants.
The house painting went pretty well, and the baseboards resembled the work of LeRoy Neiman with all sorts of pretty colors.
At the end of the project, the ladies looked exhausted – thank God I purchased coveralls, because they were covered in paint.
There wasn’t anything in my tip jar, and when I tried to schedule a time for us all to get together and paint my “she shed,” they all scattered like a disturbed hornet’s nest.
Uncle Vinny offered to help me paint, but that man couldn’t fingerpaint a piece of cardboard in his dreams. Perhaps my next “Sip and Paint” party should just be made up of handymen.
Anngee Quinones-Belian lives in Murphy. She loves humor and believes the world needs more of it. Email her at anngeeq@gmail.com.