Every time we had lunch, the conversation would begin with complaints about other people…people she knew, people she didn’t know but had to stand next to and people that she didn’t know and honestly had never met. I swear, I could write a book.
We don’t have lunch anymore. The last straw was on Thursday, Jan. 17 at the local Cheesecake Factory. I hadn’t even sat down before she took one look at me and said “I wish you would quit doing that!”
What? I looked myself over and decided I was just fine…we didn’t even have lunch on that day.
Personally, I only have one complaint. I hate it when people have business meetings at my local Starbucks. It interferes with my caffeine uphoria. I don’t care what they are planning to do or who they are going to hire. Women with big notebooks talking endlessly about selling door to door are not nearly as interesting as they think they are. Sigh! I may have to give up Starbucks in addition to my luncheon dates and that is not good!
There was always the problem of making the final decision. She depended on him to help her more than he really liked. Everyday started with endless questions.
Did they want to go out to eat? What was she going to wear? How much perfume should a lady wear? Did the blouse need to be buttoned at the top? Did the dress make her look fat? Where at she put that red purse…the one with the black clasp?
He on the other hand knew exactly how he felt. No, it wasn’t the dress that made her look fat so she could stand to miss a meal or two. No they were not going out to eat so it didn’t matter if the blouse were unbuttoned or not. As for what she was going to wear, he had no opinion on that but would she please decide on her own. He hated the perfume that smelled like fly spray and the red purse both.
She was undecided and he came straight to the point. It cut her to the bone!
Barbara is a writer that has written on Sunday Scribblings in the past. She now spends most of her time keeping her other blot, Retire in Style Blog, up and running.