The Curious Case of the Republican Women of Reno …
“Sorry we screwed up but hope you ate the food anyway.” Wonder if the club offered refunds for this missed dish. If the name of the 1st VP is familiar that is because Myer was a candidate for Washoe County Commissioner Distrcit 3 in 2022 and again in 2024 ran for City Council Ward 3 in the City of Reno.
Once upon a time, in the sagebrush-flavored land of Reno, there lived a mighty club called the Republican Women of Reno (RWR). Known for their polished pearls, power suits, and precision-planned luncheons, they were a political force, a civic staple, and—perhaps most critically—a reliable source of hot chicken piccata and lukewarm stump speeches.
But oh, how the mighty have fumbled the buffet line.
Ever since a mysterious regime change at the top (cue dramatic music), RWR luncheons have become more “soup kitchen roulette” than catered competence. Sources say the club’s president was replaced with someone whose leadership style falls somewhere between “confused cruise director” and “lost wedding planner.”
Take, for example, the infamous Wes Duncan Incident. The crowd came for a speech on avoiding scams, but instead got a campaign speech that left some club members wondering why. Meanwhile, Duncan’s opponent, DA Chris Hicks, was nowhere to be found on the lineup. Equal time? Balanced access? Republican unity? Pfft. It’s hard to say if the club is backing a candidate or just can’t remember how invitations work.
Then there was The Great Lunch Debacle of 2025. Picture this: a meeting room full of classy conservative women, each promised a delightful entrée. What they got? Culinary chaos - the head of the food committee for the club advertised the wrong lunch. They quickly fessed up to the mistake, but one member reportedly asked, “Is this supposed to be salmon or an apology?
Now, in a bold new fundraising strategy (read: panic grab for cash), the club has axed tiered pricing. That’s right—everyone pays the same $40. No early bird specials. Just a flat rate. It's unclear if the funds go to better lunches or just a group therapy session for the events team.
Now the club is blaming the Atlantis for the need to eliminate their tier pricing for lunches. What about Republican Women on fixed incomes? $40 bucks for lunch is pricy.
So here’s a pro tip for Republican candidates thinking the RWR lunch circuit is your golden ticket: you might want to pack a snack. Or a campaign staffer trained in conflict resolution. At the very least if the club can’t figure out lunch, then how the heck can they help their candidates get elected.
Running a luncheon is hard. There are dietary restrictions, guest speakers with egos the size of Washoe County, and a growing number of attendees who would rather be at home watching Fox Nation. But somehow, somewhere, this once-formidable club turned their monthly meeting into a buffet of bafflement.