Let’s go, come on we’ll have fun, we’ll eat, we’ll have a drink, we’ll laugh, she promised. The thought of peeling off my toasty warm pajama pants and heading out into the cold rainy night, was not what I had planned nor anticipated.
She insisted -- I resisted ---ultimately she won, again. Not that I keep score, of course. Dread, sigh, whine, sigh some more, one would of thought that I just performed a 5 hour Endoscopic thoracic sympathectomy and had just flown to Madrid and back. It’s was just dinner, afterall, snap out of it, the eternal party animal within me implored.
Peeling off my pajama pants felt as though I was removing a fetus from a womb. It was a long day, made a 6 a.m. train into Manhattan---in the last 3 days I’ve slept less than 10 hours-- my jammies meant I was safe and home. Once removed, I picked up speed and managed to meet Gabby on time at the restaurant. There she was standing out front with her Gucci or Prada Leopard print umbrella and matching bag, where was her papparazzi, I wondered? Gabby always in season, always trendy even in the pouring rain. I painted on a smile, adjusted my bra straps, gave a tug at my thong, which wasn’t really a thong till after I washed and dried it, I grabbed my bag and ran underneath her designer umbrella. We both still got managed to get wet, Umbrella’s are just like thongs, just never enough coverage.
So, it’s sooooo good to see you! I’m an affectionate person, I kiss and hug everyone- somehow Gabby takes it to the next level. After kissing my face atleast 10 times, she grabs my hand kisses that & pulls me down to sit. She says “ Okay ‘ What are we drinking? Gabby is a Carrie Bradshaw clone, truly a throwback from the Sex and the City era, I pause to consider whether Sex In The City was an era? I quickly dismiss the entire thought---as it’s a waste of contemplation. After all contemplation is a station where trains fail to ever arrive, things I refer to as time wasters.
Gabby will thumb through the Cocktail menu, read aloud the ingredients of many drinks announce she having a banana and like always settling on a Cosmopolitan. I’ve know Gabby for 15 years and not once other than that day at Mo’s wedding did she dare to try another cocktail, she’s been faithful to Cosmopolitan’s for 15 years, yet can’t remain faithful in any relationship, go figure.
Gabby’s a good friend, trying at times –needy too- but good for my soul. She knows me, I know her, we are equally similar as we are different and still we learn from one another. Gabby would be the first person to bail me out of jail- of course it would be difficult because she’d undeniably be locked up with me and most likely the cause for our incarceration. But, we’d have fun, we’d be laughing & most likely would be walking away from the jail having made new friends. This is where we are similar- we know how to have fun, we love to laugh, love to talk, love to make others feel good, everyone becomes family.
What are you having, she asks? Without spending too much time on a decision after a quick glance at the menu, I blurt a Frosty Melon Martini, Gabby ewwww’s and ahh’s as though she is in the midst of a love making session with Patrick Mcaughnehy. She begins reading the ingredients of my chosen drink as though she’s working on commission at a 1-800 sex line—she picks up speed –shifts into overdrive and gets louder—some are laughing—many are expressing shock by what they hear.
I begin to question why I left the comfort of my couch. “ Enough’ I say with a half smile yet annoyed tone. What” she asks? Just stop it, I insist Gab” then to ensure she knows I’m serious ---I give her the look. It’s a look I’ve developed over the years—people closest to me know “ it means” Momma ain’t playin” ! She comment’s ut oh’ I know that look!
The waiter arrives, immediately I knew he was in trouble-tall, dark, handsome, naive just beginning to sprout some sideburns.. Gabby transforms into the Cheshire cat, her tail begins to wag, her back arches, chest puffs out, she purrs, and for a moment I thought I saw her lick her paws—when I noticed that in addition to her Leopard print umbrella and bag she was donning leopard print matching gloves—of course, I thought. Flattered yet a bit nervous by Gabby’s obvious flirting the waiter suddenly looked like a young boy on Christmas morning—full of anticipation and wonder eager to upwrap the gift before him. He was nervous, excited and produced a facial sweat. I found it endearing yet disturbing too. I could tell he wished that his best buds were there to see the tiger he had snagged on his hook. As though some miraculous being had anointed him with magical dexterity. He kept looking to the left, and then to the right as though he hoped others were witnessing his luck. Gabby nibbled and then took a bite with her 40,000 dollar Davinci smile –she bit down on her gloves and slowly pulled her hand out as though a striptease had just begun. I wondered if I should stand to catch the waiter, he looked overcome with excitement; I worried from the look on his boyish face that he’d pass out. He looked at me several times; after all I was his only witness, who else could recount his luck? He looked again; his face read, “ Am I dreaming”? Gabby flirted some more, she called him a big bear, he commented on his roman nose and strong chiseled chin- he touched his face as though he had just hit the lottery, I was ready to vomit ---when suddenly I felt a hand on my back and a recognizable voice.
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