Give a Girl a Break

Did the male half of the population get a memo yesterday to divest themselves of their womenfolk?

How could this be happening to yet another of my friends?

After an evening of comforting a friend about the unceremonious end to her relationship yesterday, I came home to this e-mail: "Seriously. Got dumped. Ice cold style."

With no more information than that, I suggested she call me today and we'd talk.

She invited me to join her as she ran some shopping errands and while my distaste for most shopping is well-known, this was all about food, the only kind of shopping I can stand.

Besides, it would give us plenty of time to discuss the dead end her relationship had suddenly reached.

She started telling me the details as soon as I got in the car and continued in the car long after we arrived at our destination.

It was easier to get the facts, just the facts, over before we got around other people.

Discussion could follow anywhere...and did.

Not surprisingly, she had a bit of a hangover, so we necessarily started with lunch.

At Sprout, she had the curried chicken salad over Manakintowne greens and I had cucumber, bacon, tomato and goat cheese over the same greens.

It's such a great time of the year for out-of-the-garden goodness and both of us were impressed with our choices.

Sprout continues to deliver on taste while making it incredibly easy to be a locavore.

Our shopping began at Costco, and we were an unlikely pair since she's so much a regular that the cashiers know her by name and it was my first time ever.

Yes, I was a Costco virgin (and, believe me, only gave it up for a really good friend).

We already knew that this would be the least enjoyable part of the trip, so we made short work of her list and got out of there.

Tan-A Market was our second stop and here we lingered, admiring all the colorful cans, so many containing unfamiliar foods and ingredients.

My friend commented that if she had open-front cabinets, it would be here that she'd stock up on unusual canned goods for their visual presence and only afterwards figure out what dishes to use them in.

I could see the beauty of her offbeat plan.

Finally we got to Bodega Latina, partly to shop and partly to eat again.

The music was awesome; I commented on how much I was liking it and she said, "Don't you wish you knew Spanish so you'd know what they're singing?"

Kind of, but the music was interesting enough without comprehension. Surely they couldn't be singing about anything bad.

We were there for Mexican Cokes and pupusas revueltas (thick corn tortillas, chicharron, loroco queso and frijol) with curtido (fermented cabbage slaw with red chiles).

You'd think we hadn't just had lunch a couple of hours previously.

Actually, you'd be closer to the truth to guess that I'm not used to all that shopping and she was still sopping up last night's hurt.

I loved the pupusas, but next time, when I haven't already eaten, I'll definitely go for the tongue tacos (self-deprecating headline to follow).

Much like last night, I could offer little advice, only an empathetic ear for a friend who has been hurt.

If I knew the answer to getting over a relationship, I'd be practicing it myself.

She complimented me on my ability to maintain such a positive outlook when so much has not worked out in my own life the past year and a half.

As I pointed out to her, the alternative is pretty unappealing.

Compartmentalize, put a smile on your attitude and move forward.

And don't hesitate to resort to extra lunches and long talks with friends when necessary.

And for the rest of you guys who got that dumping memo, please rip it up.

You're making my friends really sad.

Not to mention putting me in a position where I have to go to (eww!) meat markets and (egads!) shopping in the name of offering support.

It's nowhere near as bad as being dumped, but it's not easy, either.