Earlier today my friend Laura and I made plans to meet up for a drink tonight - and we did so via text! Finally, someone from this town that embraces text messaging and owns and adores an iPhone like I do. It's like we're soul mates. Laura and I have known each other for years through camp and mutual friends but she has been living in the big city of Toronto, hence the love of texting. She moved back to our town, which is her home town, over Christmas and I am so glad to have her back. She's single, smart, sassy, and always up for a good time.
She's game for random coffee dates at Starbucks. She's not afraid of a random Wednesday night drink. And she's definitely not afraid to go bowling or do something else random and fun on the weekends. I love that about her. Everything is a good time with Laura.
Anyway, we agreed to meet at 8pm for a drink at the Laundromat. The name comes from its origins, a place to take care of your laundering. It's now been turned into a funky little wine bar with a great, comfy atmosphere. It's the kind of joint where the patrons all appear to work in either a science lab or an art gallery. Most are wearing large, black eye glasses. They are wearing vintage clothes and have intentionally tousled hair. Me and my cable knit sweater, stick straight hair, American accent and Patagonia parka stick out like a sore thumb. It's kind of embarrassing but somehow I'm learning to deal with it.
As I mentioned, we planned on meeting at 8:00. At 7:55 I skated across our ice-rink driveway to my car. I turned on the car and sat back to let it warm up for a second. While waiting I noticed headlights pull into the end of the driveway. Because of our driveway shape I couldn't actually see the car just the glow of their lights against the fence. I figured it was Laura there to pick me up. I didn't remember her mentioning that she would pick me up but it did make sense as I only live about two blocks from the bar. Plus Canadians have a weird obsession with giving each other "drives" every place they go. Where I come from we meet each other, even if it is just a block away. Also, I know you're thinking that I should have walked my happy ass to the Laundromat but I'll have you know that it's approximately -1000 degrees outside and I was not about to walk anywhere that was more than 10 feet away.
Back to my story.
Headlights. Shining down my driveway. Presumably belonging to Laura.
I started digging for my phone to see if she was sitting at the end of my driveway. I could have walked, but that would require a potentially unnecessary skating trip down the asphalt. Besides, as long as the car was sitting there I couldn't back out so I might as well sit tight. In that moment my text message honked at me announcing a new message.
It was Laura, "I'm here," it said.
"Hmmm," I thought, "I guess she is picking me up. Good thing I hadn't left yet."
I turned off my car, pulled on my mittens and headed down the driveway toward the headlights.
As it turned out it was a taxi dropping off a neighbor. I looked down the street and saw no sign of Laura's car. Naturally I assumed she must be driving down the next street over and had texted me en route so I would be outside awaiting her arrival. Annoying. After standing there freezing my bum off for another five minutes I was starting to get really annoyed. Then my text honked at me again. This time it said, "I ordered a beer and it's delicious."
Awesome. I'm standing here waiting for a nonexistent
So I skated back down the driveway and made my way back to my car, miraculously avoiding a broken bone.
Then I went to the bar.
And ordered a glass of wine.
Then I apologized for being late and explained that I am not the brightest bulb in the pack.
Then we chatted for hours and solved all the world's problems. You know how those kind of evenings go.
They're the best.