My tall friend Thomas and I finally started spending time together the last six months, after years of not. Back in his bartending days, I was able to worship at his altar bar twice a week and made a point to do so. I was rewarded with smart conversation and killer wit, not to mention the occasional backhanded compliment or dig; I thoroughly enjoyed his company (and book discussions). Actually it was devotion to the pleasure of his company that led me to meeting someone I eventually became daft about but whom he tried to warn me against. Then life and circumstance (not of either of our own doing, btw) intervened and we only occasionally ran into each other.
Happily, that's all been corrected since February and we meet regularly now for lunch at the most varied of eating establishments (821, Mojo's, Bistro 27, The Village...are you getting the idea?), usually to eat fattening, fried or greasy foodstuffs. Today's destination of choice was Cafe Gutenburg (PBRs, Leo Hillinger Welschriesling and platter o' fries) and I'm just now home.
We always have plenty to talk about cause we know lots of the same people and yet hear different gossip. Even better, he's shared some of our conversations with his smart wife, so I get the added benefit of her take on the people and happenings we discuss. Naturally, there's also the topic of music. At the moment, I'm very much looking forward to a mix CD he's making me featuring some of his current favorites. Friends who give me music are the best.
When we finish our marathon lunches (luckily we both have flexible schedules), we amuse ourselves. We got to Carytown to shop for vintage clothes. Thomas takes pictures of my legs. He drives me home so we can discuss jam-making.
As usual, today's pithy discussion and analysis reminded me again why I have had a friend crush on him since 2002. Shh, don't tell.