Dear Jack,
I was running some errands over in Northeast when I kept seeing these sandwich-board signs pointing to Mrs. Kelly’s Tea in a warehouse building on 13th Avenue just west of Marshall Street. I figured I’d go see what the deal is. You know how much I like tea.

When I went inside, I found myself in a line behind eight mostly gray-haired women, all wearing jaunty red hats. They were apparently a chapter of the “Red Hat Society.” (Inspired by that Jenny Joseph poem, “Warning,” I read you some time ago, in which she declares that when she is old she will wear purple, and a red hat that “doesn’t go.” You remember, don’t you?)

There was a tall, jovial man who seemed to be the one in charge. (I later learned that he was Mr. Kelly.) When he saw the red-hat women, he exclaimed, “Oh ho!! What have we here?!” and dished up some good-natured ribbing, gesturing to the uniformed police officer, who was apparently there to guard the tea, and admonishing them to behave themselves, all of which appeared to amuse the red-hats (and the police officer) very much.

I learned that this was Mrs. Kelly’s annual tea tasting, “It works like a wine tasting,” said Mr. Kelly. Well, it was much busier, more crowded, and with way more choices than that wine tasting at Bailey’s in Hastings last summer--remember that? Such a leisurely summer afternoon that was.

This was more like going to the mall on the day after Thanksgiving. What a crowd! I was eager to sample some tea, though, so I plunged in.

There were three rooms, one with green teas, one with herbal teas, and one with black teas, after which there was a “lounge,” where you could add hot water to your selections and enjoy your tea along with cookies and other goodies set out on plates. I headed straight for the black teas, spooned a little chai and a little sweet Russian into filter bags in small styrofoam cups, and then to the lounge. The Russian tea is delicious, by the way, and not at all like the Tang- and-Nestea concoction of our childhoods, I tell you!

As it turned out, I sat down right next to the red-hats, who seemed to be enjoying both their tea and the attention of the police officer, a tall, handsome fellow in his late thirties, with a gap-toothed smile and deep dimples. The women chuckled as they chatted, and one of them assured him that they were on their best behavior.

I finished my tea, gathered up my coat, and headed out into the chilly air. You know, I could use a hat on cold days like this. I wonder how I’d look in a red one?
--M