I really like impromptu company.
Oh, sure. My house is
a disaster. There are still things sitting
in my den that belong in the basement from when the hot water heater blew three
weeks ago, and, hey, I need time to get stuff put back. Right?
Also, my youngest just got back from college, and that means there is
junk piled everywhere -- piles of laundry, piles of bedding, piles of lacrosse
equipment, and piles of errant school supplies. The kid went to work immediately upon
returning home, working twelve-plus hour days, and work holds priority over
organizational tasks. It's just the way
life goes around here.
So, my house is a mess.
Sue me.
I get a text on my cell phone tonight. A friend needs to come over; her Verizon has
malfunctioned, and everything is down -- no cable, no phone, and no Internet. Verizon can come tomorrow between 8:00 a.m.
and 8:00 p.m. (thanks for narrowing that down, assholes), or they can give her
a Saturday appointment some time after July 4th. And no, they did not offer to pro-rate her
lack of service. So she came by to check
her email and some websites since she is in the midst of a heated job search.
Good thing Jose Cuervo likes impromptu visits, too.
My friend is having a bad day; I'm having a bad day. I offer her a glass of wine and realize that I
really don't have that much wine in the fridge, and, quite honestly, I've no
idea when the last time was that I even opened the near-empty bottle. It could be toilet water by now. I have a nearly full jug of strawberry
margarita mixer and about four shots of Jose Cuervo left. Good thing I'm an ice hoarder, because I've
got plenty of that, too.
There's nothing like a tall, frozen strawberry margarita to
start the work-week off correctly. After
all, there are only so many things that can distract us from dead cable and less-than-stellar
working conditions.
When my friend leaves one hour later, she has checked her
email and checked some stuff for work. I
know she's grateful for being able to use my computer, but really, it's no big
deal. I ask her, "Would you do it
for me?" knowing full-well that she would.
I know she only wears glasses sometimes for reading, but she is the best
"blind" friend I know. She
doesn't say a word about the cyclone disaster that is the inside of my home, as
if she cannot even see it. I appreciate
that.
You can't buy friends like that. Impromptu company or not, Jose and I welcome friends
like her anytime. Anytime the house is
clean … or not. Anytime at all.
