Tuesday Lunch

I met two old friends for lunch today -- and when I say old, I mean old. I went to kindergarten with one of them and then was best friends with the other girl from third grade. But first, there was an incident.

I was supposed to meet them at 1, right in my neighborhood, and I left with plenty of time to get there in a leisurely way. Right in front of my building, there is a big pothole in the street, and as I walked by a cab came and slammed into the pothole, spraying me with water. It got me on my side, and I instinctively turned toward the street just as another car sped by and I got full front dousing... I was so wet that my shirt was clinging to me... not a good look... so I had no choice but to go back inside to change my shirt, wipe my face, and I walked in my apartment, left the front door open (since I'd be leaving in a few moments), quickly changed my shirt since a new one was conveniently hanging up but not put away from laundry.

And I was on my way... and all was well until I went to return home... No keys. Yes, I locked myself out. I have trained myself with a key holder right inside my door... the moment I walk in, I hang my keys, and when I leave I have them in my hand.

Except for today.

I realized what I had done is to walk in my apartment with the front door open, put my purse and my keys on this painted sideboard. Changed my shirt, put the wet one on top of my keys, and left.

But all was not lost. I had left with the door to my garden open since it was such a spectacular day. When I got back to my building, I had my cell phone, but I didn't have the number for the super.

To get to my garden, I can go in the basement, out a side door, into this alley area between the buildings, then up a built-in ladder to my garden. I am willing to do that, but would rather not. If someone had come in or out, I would have done it.

I realize I can get the super's phone number from the real estate management company and so I try to get their number from directory assistance -- all voice-recognition software -- no live humans. The company is called Mautner Glick... and I kept getting, "I think you said Mountain Resources, is that correct?" or "I think you said Medical Offices of Manhattan, is that correct?" -- couldn't get myself to a human operator... then it gave you an option to spell it which worked no better.

I hung up, tried again, failed again, tried again and this time I got the number. Called them, got only voice mail; waited a minute; called again, got the phone of the super, called the super, got his wife, she said she'd come over. I waited about 5 minutes and she arrived and went to the basement, the garden, through my apartment to the front door and out to me waiting outside. I tipped her $20 which was about 20X less than my last resort which would have been a locksmith.

Meanwhile, back at lunch. We had a wonderful time. Judy brought some photos she had found in her mother's possessions and one was a kindergarten trip to the beach and there I was in one of them. It was so odd to look at this little stranger who was me. One funny thing is that there were photos of the girls going in the water just in underpants which you know would not happen today. Ever. Ever.

So here we are, having our lunch. We asked the server to take the shot:



Judy, who is sitting next to me, and I have been friends since 1954. That's a long time. She is a nurse, and Hester, the woman across is an artist... a real one, with gallery shows and everything.



This is the dessert which we split. It was chocolate mousse cake.



This just made me laugh. This is Hester trying to see the Blackberry and figure it out and this Blackberry is a hand me down from her teenage daughter.



And Judy trying to figure out where her photos went since she thinks she deleted them all by accident.



Judy lives in Vermont, but is here because her daughter Abby is about to give birth, making Judy a grandmother for the second time. Wait, weren't she and I just playing on the beach a few years ago?

One sentimental story about Judy: At the reunion I went to in 2002, I had my own hotel room and she was sharing a room with a girl who turned out to be a total nut case, and Judy asked if she could sleep in my room. Of course. So there we were, in the dark, in bed, talking and gossiping and it was like a time warp -- it could have been 1965 and we could have been having a sleepover back in high school. This was Saturday night of the reunion and we were all going home the next morning. I asked her, "Of everything that happened this weekend, what was your favorite part?' And without a pause, she said, "Right now." That so touched me. And it was -- just a lovely time to be together with an old friend.