First the saving of the Saran Wrap, and now the Tupperware party - the gradual transformation into my mother is gaining speed. I'm sure I can expect to say "tipsy" instead of "drunk" and make the best cherry cheesecake any day now.
I got dragged to this Tupperware party because I couldn't make up plans on a random Wednesday night fast enough. But I was secretly excited -I love Tupperware. My favourite garage sale finds are always the retro containers and have never had the opportunity to buy new pieces. Thought it might be a novel idea to use plastic that hasn't been used by another family for 30 years.
Our Tupperware host lady was named Michelle and she started the evening asking us to go around the circle and tell our names and favourite piece of Tupperware. Felt like AA or Catholic confession especially when we had to state how long it had been since our last Tupperware party.
Because it was my first party, I got a free orange peeler thing. Remember these?
I said my favourite piece was the shallow round pie transporter favoured by my grandmother. I saw her eyes narrow a bit when I mentioned I found it at a garage sale. Michelle has been a consultant for 9 years and she was good at the hard sell. Before I knew it, I had a wish list compiled.
Then came the part where she tried to recruit us into hosting parties and being consultants. I tuned out and tried to subtly move toward the kielbasa and cheese. I was mildly intrigued by her tales of company cars, lavish vacations to something called the Pink Palace, IPADs, and the money she makes. But then I remembered I would have to sell Tupperware to get that.
When she asked what would be a hindrance to this line of work, I said, "A fear of sales," which is completely true. I was a terrible Girl Guide when it came to selling cookies (but great at eating them), my own parents wouldn't buy magazine subscriptions during elementary school and was once demoted from sales to greeter at a national telecommunications chain.
All the sale tactics from Michelle included the phrase "Eligible to purchase". As in: "If you spend $85 or more, you are then eligible to purchase this piece at $25." That's not a prize if you still have to pay for it, Michelle.
At the end of the party where I was planning on spending no money, I managed to drop $88 on two pieces. Or maybe they're sets - I really hope there's more than 2 pieces. Sure, they last for life, blah, blah, blah. Just realized I spent more on this Tupperware than on my dining room table.
1. FridgeSmart - everyone in the circle raved about these and apparently they will make bad food good again. Limp celery to crispy celery! Keep peppers for weeks! Handy guide on the side! I was dazzled and sucked right in. I guess I have to buy some vegetables now.
2. FreezerMates - nothing too flashy about these but great for .... I don't know, holding stuff. Basically, I enjoyed the colour name "Purplicious" so I got them.
At the end, there was a draw and an opportunity to take home a piece of free Tupperware. But there was a risk - that Michelle is cunning! You either get to just take the free prize or there is a prize and a party (which she tried to convince us is a good thing).
I figured I could just open it and if there was a party, just say I was going to host a party, but then not actually do it. No biggie. Turns out Michelle was pretty strict about it and if I got a party, I actually had to host one. In the next 21 days. I like Tupperware as much as the next very cool twenty-something, but I don't need that kind of pressure.
So, after 15 minutes of deliberation, I gave up the free Tupperware in case I had to host a party. It was the right decision as Michelle made everyone huddle and book their parties right then and there. I busied myself with more kielbasa instead.
My Tupperware arrives in 2 weeks and I expect it to last my entire life. My ENTIRE life. As we left, we had to fill out a questionnaire and I regret (or do I?) to say that I fake-numbered the Tupperware Lady. The same fake number I give out to creepers at the club. Thanks Michelle, but we're done here.
Something else I regret - I was flipping through the catalogue and saw a shiny, smiling soccer mom wearing an identical shirt to one that I have hanging in my closet. Sigh.