Monday, August 12, 2013

The Shock of the News

Outside. Waiting. Scared. Cold.

That's the sarcastic message my friend had just sent me when I looked out the window and saw him downstairs.

We had lunch plans and I was running a few minutes behind getting ready when I spotted him outside.

Dressing in record time, I came flying out my front door to his commentary about me "upstairs in my ivory tower," inaccessible to all.

So I had my doorbell disconnected. So I don't have a cell phone.

And my house is yellow, not ivory.

All he really had to do was call my name and I'd have heard him through the open window, but he claims he wasn't raised in the "holla."

We agreed on 821 for lunch, wanting to take advantage of the last little bit of non-student opportunity left.

Once at a table, Fleetwood Mac in the background, our server inquired if I wanted my usual nachos, starting to write the order before I even answered.

I did.

The shock came when she inquired if I wanted a half portion.

A what?

I've been ordering those black bean nachos exclusively at 821 for, oh, four or five years now, and never once has anyone offered me a half portion.

Color me surprised and more than a little thrilled.

Friend got his usual burger and we began the business of catching up on each other's lives.

It had been close to a year since we'd last met up and the original reason for our get-together was because he'd noticed we had a mutual friend on Facebook.

And not just any mutual friend, but the unlikeliest person he'd ever expected to see show up as one of my friends.

First off, he wanted that story.

After sharing how that unholy union had come about, he filled me in on his life.

The least I could do was the same and while I generally prefer to wait for people to inquire about my life rather than assuming they want to hear about my business, I've been chided for that quality.

So, my friend, here's what's been up with me.

Ah, the pleasures of dropping a long-time friend's jaw.

He was agog, so much so that when the check arrived, he scooped it up, insisting, "For that story, I'll buy you lunch!"

Since the lunch rush was winding down, we sat there chatting even once our food was gone, with him saying, "For this, I've got time."

Funny, I didn't hear a bit of sarcasm in that.

Inside. Talking. Shocked. WTF?

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