Starting the day before yesterday we had the following e-mail exchange:
Him: How about Tuesday afternoon, around 1:30 PM? Let me know.
Me: Tuesday at 1:30 works. I’m open to the where.
Him: Great! How about the usual?
I had to wait a few minutes before responding. I didn’t want to embarrass myself or him by asking him to refresh my memory, so I didn’t type back “Now, where’s ‘the usual’ again?” I just said, “OK, see you tomorrow!” and thankfully he respond, “See you at Ciocolat!”
It’s not that it had been that long since I’d seen #1 Mentor; it was that we’d actually been to a few different places in Davis. In a way, though, I’m glad he thinks it’s our usual. It will make it easier for me.
In fact, it made me think about how most of my social interactions = going to lunch or coffee. And how most of my social interactions are one-on-one. And each one of my friends has a corresponding place.
These patterns, these habits that seem so contrary to my variety is the spice of life approach to, um, life are actually quite relaxing. I know where I’m going with each friend and that reduces the time spent on discussing where to go. We’re able to get down to talking about what matters and that really matters when our time together is so limited by schedules that are increasingly more difficult.
Always going back to the same place also means less time spent poring over a menu and more time on each other, so the compartmentalization of my lunch dates doesn’t bother me as much as it would seem to.
It’s comforting to know that when V. and I have lunch, it will be at Bernardo, and we’ll eat and drink the exact same thing. Every time. And so what? We know we’re going to be eating something really good and since we oohed and ahhed over it the first time, we don’t have to do it again and can get down to gossip and/or film, lit. and culture. Also, I like going to lunch with someone who’s not afraid to order alcohol.
M. and K. will always want Thai food. But in different places. I like eating with M. at the place on G. St. We often see someone else from the dept. And there’s soup. And even though I feel a twinge of something when I order prawns or meat, I know he doesn’t judge me harshly. K. doesn’t judge either, and if she and I don’t order alcohol, it’s only because we are on our way to class.
So sometimes we wait until after and go to happy hour. I don’t mind going to different places, which we do. We don’t hem and haw. If more than just a few seconds go by, I say “Sophia’s” because they have good mojitos. If we’re hungry and don’t care about atmosphere, we go to the Grad for a beer and free nachos.
E. is sweet and not-quite-granola, but we go to Delta. I’m going there tomorrow. I think everything there is vegetarian. It’s also an order-at-the-counter place and it’s good to get that out of the way. No waiting for a server who may forget about us or who may be overloaded. She usually knows exactly what she wants. Sometimes they run out of things, though and that really interferes with conversation.
I go to coffee and split cake with R. We like the cappuccino at Panama Red’s. It’s nice to be by the water. It’s quick to meet there and quick is good because I don’t get to see her much anymore, so it’s reallyreally good to not spend time figuring out where to go. If we eat, we narrow it to 2-3 choices and make up our minds right away. Sometimes I get to cook at my house!
I miss sushi lunch with C. Our schedules are way too different now. And E. won’t be back from France for a reallyreally long time and I hope the gelato place is still in business when she does get home.
Yesterday I declared Monday is dinner out night. I also declared that it would be dedicated to exploring the restaurants of Vallejo we haven’t yet been to. At least until we find one that can also be a “usual”.
I’ve had this Hello Kitty pencil box for over half of my life and have used it in all of my college programs. I don’t remember where I used to keep my pens. I probably didn’t remember where I’d put them back then either. But I do remember that when I got this pencil box from my friend Michelle way back in the Fall of 1986, I became inspired to have nice writing things and to take care of them, the way she did. Michelle was my close friend at Whitman. She also inspired me to run. The first time. The summer after our first year, she went to Japan to visit family and she brought me back a t-shirt with really bad English on it, a pillowcase with really bad English on it, some candies, and the pencil box. Of course the pencil box is the only thing I have left of my souvenir haul from Japan. And I really do think of her almost every time I use it.
