Over the past few weeks, several of my friendships have been put to the test. I consider myself fortunate to have a loving support system, but sometimes it lets you down or makes you face the truth about yourself. Neither is fun, but both are necessary—even if it is humiliating.
First, tequila is not my friend. I had the great fortune to spend a week in Cabo with my husband and two friends when the average temperature was 10 degrees in St. Louis. The weather was amazing, and the resort beautiful. We walked into town every night to have dinner and found a place that made the freshest margaritas. One night, the bar had a band from the U.S. that played old southern rock hits, all songs I loved growing up. This meant a few more margaritas than usual and, for whatever reason, the bar staff started sending us shots of tequila. Never one to cause an international incident by refusing another country’s hospitality, I did the shot (or perhaps it was shots). Yes, our international friends loved us so much they kept them coming, and who am I to turn away such a sign of affection? Somewhere in my brain, the old Simon & Garfunkel song started playing: “Tequila, you’re breaking my heart. You’re shaking my confidence daily … ” The next day was ugly. Actually, I was ugly. I am still shaking my head when I think about it. (Oh, and by the way, Simon & Garfunkel weren’t singing about tequila; it was Cecilia.)
Second, old friends are the only ones who can successfully mock you and make you laugh. Everyone, or at least that’s what I tell myself, has a crush left over from high school or college. Fortunately, most keep it to themselves. Not me. At a recent event for my husband’s soccer team, I was going to see my crush for the first time in 40 years. Now, I’d like to say I didn’t make any extra effort, but that would be a big, fat lie. I scheduled my regular hair cut and highlights for the day before, made sure the eyebrows weren’t gray, got up early and put on makeup, and then made the mistake of announcing to a car full of friends that I couldn’t wait to see my crush and wondered what his reaction would be. This poor guy never knew what hit him. He gave all of his former soccer mates nice, big hugs and greetings.
He got to me and had no idea who I was. I introduced myself. “I’m Patty. We went to school together.” But instead of sounding like a statement, it sounded like a question from the voice of the 18-year-old girl who still had a crush. Humiliating. This resulted in a great amount of laughter from the group I came with. The rest of the day was spent mocking me by repeating, ”I’m Patty. We went to school together.” A little bit of my soul was crushed that night. I’m not sure what I expected to happen. (Oh, yes I do. I wanted him to say, “Patty, of course! How could I forget you? I’ve always had a crush on you.”) But life doesn’t work that way. Instead, it provides you with new adventures that make you realize sometimes you must throw out friendships that don’t work (tequila) and keep others that make your crushed soul feel normal by the end of the weekend.
Contact Patty at phannum@townandstyle.com.
