Hosting

I really want to fit in. This is my first time hosting the ladies. I'm the newbie here. I need them to accept me. The sewing ladies relax me. These women have such a storehouse of stories. I never get tired listening to them.
There's the bell. Right on time. One dozen sewing ladies in my apartment for two hours. Hope there's enough coffee and tea.
"Where do we change?" Eloise asked.
"I don't understand."
"What's to understand, Bull? You spent 18 years as a professional wrestler. We want to learn some moves. Where's the mats? I want a piece of Shauna."
I was taken aback. The whole point of hosting the sewing ladies was to get away from my past.
"Is this for self defense?" I asked.
"Hell no, we just want to kick some butt. Show the hubby who's boss. Teach those young punks hanging out a lesson. I brought a coral leotard. That's my color."
I felt so used. Wasn't my personality enough?
"Coffee, anyone?"
"Stop stalling, big boy. Get into your skin tight outfit. First let me feel that muscle."
Loretta elbowed Eloise out of the way and grabbed my biceps. It hit me--I was nothing but a piece of meat. My sewing skills were a joke to them. I could barely conceal a sob. Always the outsider.