Free Farewell, Dorothy Parker by Dorothy Parker Ellen Meister - Farewell

local studio, and this is from my instructor to our whole class. He wants to know if everyone would like to go out for coffee after this week’s lesson.”
    “How do I answer it?”
    “See where it says ‘reply all’? Click that, and then type a message saying I’d love to go but can’t make it.”
    “Why can’t you make it?”
    “I have an editorial meeting at work the next morning, and I need to make it an early night. So just express my regrets and then click here to send.”
    Violet folded her arms and stood back, excited to watch the great Dorothy Parker actually compose a sentence. Her hero poised her fingers over the keyboard and quickly typed the letters D-e-l-i-g-h-t-e-d. Before Violet could let out a single choked syllable, her guest hit send.
    “What did you do that for!” Violet said.
    “You need to socialize more.”
    “That’s the
last
thing I need.”
    “I beg to differ.”
    Violet began to pace back and forth, thinking about the people in her martial arts class. There wasn’t a single person in there she could have a meaningful conversation with. She thought about Suzette, the twenty-two-year-old anorexic girl who always came straight from a kickboxing lesson. Violet had tried to make polite chitchat before class, but the girl was interested only in getting sympathy for the fact that people were always trying to get her to eat more. “I
do
eat,” she had said to Violet, “but mostly apples.” Another classmate was Jason, a hairdresser from Hicksville who had such a short attention span that Violet tended to lose him in the middle of “I’m fine, thanks.” Then there were the
Linda
twins, who weren’t actually twins, or even sisters, but a pair of middle-aged suburban friends who shared the same name and an obsession with real-estate prices. The most intimidating classmate was Mariana, a stunning Latina and aspiring Broadway actress who had appeared in several television commercials.
    And then, of course, there was Michael Jessee, the instructor, a mocha-skinned ex-Marine who looked like Terrence Howard with a thick neck and muscles. But it wasn’t his looks that made Violet swoon, it was his voice. Before she even met him in person she had called his studio, the Red Dragon Kung Fu Academy, and listened to him on the answering machine. If it weren’t for a tiny but endearing speech impediment—a sibilant
s
that created a soft whistle in certain sounds—Violet would have thought he had hired a professional to record his message. But no, it was Michael. And now, thinking about the way he sounded, Violet remembered a line from a short story by Dorothy Parker:
His voice was as intimate as the rustle of sheets.
    But, of course, he was out of her league. And there was simply no way she could imagine fitting into this group.
    “I have
nothing
in common with these people,” Violet said.
    “So much the better.”
    “I’m going to cancel.”
    “No, you’re not. You’re going to invite them here so I can coach you through it.”
    “Coach me?”
    “Sure, I’ll buzz around unseen, but I’ll be able to whisper in your ear, give you advice on what to say.”
    “I don’t know,” Violet said. “This doesn’t sound like such a great idea.”
    “It will be the first in a series of lessons to teach you to be more assertive.”
    “I don’t think it will work,” Violet said. “I…I don’t have it in me.”
    “Of course you have it in you. You’re just afraid to let it out unless you’re writing a review.”
    Violet couldn’t argue that point. Sometimes she felt like a cauldron of vitriol bubbling beneath a tight lid. Her reviews were the only safe way to let out some steam. Trying that in a social situation could be dangerous, volatile, terrifying.
    “I’m sorry,” she said. “I can’t.”
    “Are you giving up on winning custody of your niece?”
    “Of course not.”
    “Then you owe it to her, my dear. You owe her a sincere effort to bring your inner bitch into the