Making Friends

Friday was a day of adventures.

I took the day off because I had an ultrasound on my left hooter. I'd been at the doctors the week before and she did an exam and felt something and said "Does it hurt when I do this?" as she pressed the area with force and tiny fingers, and indeed it did hurt. So an ultrasound. And things are aok. But I took the day off so I could not have to rush from work. The last thing of the day was to have an adult beverage with a lady from one of my caregivers' support groups. Her mom lives in the same place as mine does. Did I mention that there are currently 9 cases of Covid there? That's been part of the excitement of earlier in the week.

So my cohort indicated that she would like to get together and I thought that was fine. But the communication was a little out of sync. I asked for her suggestion on good times to get together, and the response took awhile. Then she said she had car trouble, and I suggested that when things smoothed out she might want to get back in touch. Which she did...and gave me her phone number. So I texted her and gave her my number, which is what people in my demographic do these days when they share phone numbers. But she rang me instead. I suggested we get together the following day at 6pm at the wine bar. She agreed, but seemed to have some difficulty finding it on a map, or retaining the numbers of the address that I was telling her (it's on a main drag). 

After my mammo and ultrasound I came home and put on some makeup and a passable outfit and toodled down to the wine bar. I selected an interesting sounding wine -- a chilled red from Georgia (the country). And then I sat. And wrote notes in my notebook and checked off things I'd done. And looked at my phone. And took pictures. And sipped my wine.

The wine was amazing, and it saved the day, if by the day I mean the situation of being stood up by my now non-future friend. The wine tasted exactly like the smell of my folks' sideboard in the dining room. Cedar and ground black pepper that's past its prime. Loved it. By 6:20 I was all whatever. By 6:36 I was all "do you want me to pick up bread on the way home, husband, cause I'm gonna bail!" I texted and emailed the woman a message saying that I am heading out, and I received one in return saying that she'd written it down as Saturday. What part of tomorrow and Friday is Saturday, by the way?

If this ever comes up again I will certainly decline the invitation. I could tell from all of the previous communication that this was likely to be a bust, but I gave it a shot. And had one :)