Monday, February 24, 2014

The Friend Retrieval Society

"All right girls, if everyone's picked the head covering of their choice, let's hit the town."

Morning Readers,

I don't get the chance to catch Husband off guard very often, but when the opportunity does finally arise, I usually surprise him with something completely mundane.

"I'm going to get coffee with friends on Saturday."

A look of confusion jogged across Husband's face. "I don't get it."

"Don't get what?"

"Friends. Where are you really going?"

"I have friends."

"You have me and people you talk to on the internet. So I ask you again, where are you going?"

I crossed my arms. "They're college friends. I went there once, before I lost my vigor for life and enthusiasm for putting outfits together."

"I thought you sat in the library for four years and studied."

"That's the story I told you."

I guess I couldn't really blame my beloved for being confused. The social scene and I parted ways many years ago, and spending time with people who could actually see how long it's been since I had my roots dyed had all but gone the way of the Dodo. Therefore, when the invitation to coffee had floated in, I wasn't really in a position to decline. The important part was going, not convincing Husband I wasn't crazy. Or, at least, to what degree.

So, I went. This past Saturday, I went again. The story was the same for all of us. Kids, husbands, responsibilities, no one had become a millionaire in the month since we'd seen each other. But there was something else.

"I don't see anyone anymore."
"No one from school, that's for sure."
"Or anyone at all."
"I think the only friend I have left is my husband."
"Some days, I don't even like my husband, so I think coffee is the only friend I have left."
"One day, I ran out of coffee, and I almost quit the world altogether."
"Can you imagine if there wasn't coffee?"
"Shut up, that's not even funny to joke about."
"Yeah, you'll be lucky if we invite you back."

A vast feeling of isolation had suddenly run through the group like a gilded thread and bound us both to each other and the nearest salt shaker. The six of us looked around.

"It's like we're back on a mission to find friends."
I nodded solemnly, "Friend retrieval."
"No one said it was pretty. But it needs to be done."
"Are we gonna make t-shirts?"
"I'll handle the gift exchange at Christmas."
"Whoever made that crack about coffee doesn't get a present."
"Agreed."

And thus the society was born. A good way to imagine us is to think of the movie The Skulls and realize we're nothing like that. This group is more like Steel Magnolias with a twist of desperation. A lot less hairspray, and no aversions to red velvet cake. So, if you see us out, feel free to come sit down, just don't ever, ever touch our coffee.

Until Next Time, Readers!


6 comments:

  1. I feel the same way about coffee....on Sunday morning before SOR, when I ran out....I think I slithered into the church and then spent an hour teaching the lamest class ever. Coffee is my life. Don't touch my coffee.

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    1. I've long thought The Holy Spirit and coffee work very closely together, Erica.

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  2. I totally know what you mean about waking up one day to realize that coffee and my husband are the only friends I have left. The children seem to have friends in volumes so I spend all of my time schlepping them around so they can be entertained.

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    1. I've just begun the schlepping you speak of, and I know in my heart of hearts that coffee and me will be simpatico until death do us part.

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  3. Now I'm jealous of you and your friends, even though I can't drink coffee. I'm at the age where all my friends have husbands and kids and I have no desire to leave my house because it's so freaking cold, so hey! Me and the couch, with social interaction limited to the gym and the grocery store (also, work, but whatever with that.) I'm usually cool with that, but sometimes I do miss more friends.

    Anyway, the real question: Did you splurge for another $2.50 cupcake?

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    1. If you lived here, you know I'd swing by and make you go with us. In fact, you're so cool, you'd have no choice but to come hang out with our rag tag organization.

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