Back in the college days I had a good friend named
Patty. She and I shared a birthday. It
was like double the gifts, double the parties, double the dinners, a week of “non-stop wine, women and cootchie cootchie coo!” Time passed. I graduated and went on my way.
Years later I am back
in town for our birthday week. Of
course, like me, all my friends had graduated and moved away. Patty on the other hand had been a
working-girl as were most of her friends, so they were still all there.
They were all really nice people most of whom I knew from the good old
days, but after a while I tired of telling the same introductory stories over
and over again. I went and sat down next
to Julie a great friend to me and Patty.
Julie was sorting
thru the pile of record albums on her lap figuring out what to play next. (Record albums at a party! How old am I?) We picked one out. She vacated her seat and squatted
to place the record on the turn table at the end of the couch. As she did someone plopped down into her spot
next to me; an acquaintance of Patty’s.
“So, Bill I noticed
that pretty much everyone here at your birthday party is a friend of Patty’s
and not friends with you.”
I did not know what to say to that. Julie did.
She’d risen from the record player to find someone in her seat and belittling
the birthday-boy. Towering over
the seated guy she says, “Well, you know how Patty is, she likes everybody. Me and Bill not so much. The people we like: we like a lot. Everybody else, we just spit on.”
God bless Julie C.
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