Midway through our dinner at an Upper West Side grill, I’d sustained about as much self-censorship as I could handle, and I let the fuck word fly. I quickly shoved another slice of avocado into my heinous potty mouth to prevent any further indiscretions, and looked up at my companion, expecting shock, dismay or a quick attempt at a dinner-time exorcism. Instead, he was laughing.
“You’ve been on your best behavior this whole time, haven’t you?”
I nodded and gnawed at a french-fry. “I tried.”
“You were the most real girl I ever knew, V. I’m glad that hasn’t changed.”
V. Short for the name given to the goddess of love and a fly eating plant, it was the nickname he’d given me when I was 19 and we’d just met. Seven years later, he sat across from me, zenned out, spikey haired and sporting a yoga-trimmed physique, completely changed and exactly the same.
I dropped the thin guise of propriety on the spot. We spent the rest of the evening walking the streets of Manhattan, eating ice cream and reminiscing.
“Remember those shoes you had?”
“What shoes?” I munched on a piece of waffle cone. “I had lots of shoes.”
“The black ones that made you six feet tall? Every time I see someone wearing a pair, I think, ‘Look! Heather Shoes.’”
“You do? You… think about me?”
“All the time.”
When even the allure of a full moon over the river couldn’t overpower the night’s humidity, we went back to my air conditioned apartment. We talked and talked until I was doing more yawning than talking. We decided it time to call it a night; I had brunch in the morning and he had a plane to catch.
Except for one blasphemy slip on my part, the night went off without a hitch. So much laughing. I remembered all the reasons I cared and I wondered why the idea of seeing him again had made me so nervous. I really should have given him a little more credit -- he’d changed as much as I had. Maybe not in the same direction, but he’d changed.
Cheers to getting better with age.
Cheers to that for sure - I had a birthday over the weekend! Cheers to getting better with age!
Posted by: Erin at August 30, 2004 11:24 AMSo..... is he a candidate?
Posted by: Steph at August 30, 2004 12:28 PMFine wine we are indeed.
Posted by: The Lobster at August 30, 2004 12:52 PMHeck yeah!
Posted by: Shawn at August 30, 2004 01:12 PMIsn't that just the best experience? Thanks for putting into words what I've felt about reunions with old friends. Keep up the excellent writing, Fish! I always enjoy my visits to your site.
Posted by: Melinda at August 30, 2004 01:56 PMNewsflash: Inflatable Emu, AKA Carolyn Whatsername, plagiarizer of the fish and other blogs, appears to be GONE. Blogger must have deleted her!!
YAY!!
Sorry for off topic comment. Resume cool disussion now.
Posted by: Kim at August 30, 2004 05:05 PMThat's the way reunions with old friends should be - thank you for writing that one!! (Can I copy and mail the URL to certain people who shall remain nameless to figuratively bitch-slap them into reality??? I promise to give you credit!! :) )
Posted by: lawyerchik1 at August 30, 2004 05:25 PMFine entry. It's interesting how much you tell without giving any real details. It's also nice how much you can do with so little prose. Well done and thanks.
Posted by: Michael R at August 31, 2004 11:57 AM