I woke up at 6 AM, got to play with my niece for a bit, and all too quickly it seemed like the call came from the cab, saying that they were outside and ready to take my brother's family to the airport. So there were hugs and kisses, and we waved them off into the cab, as I fought back tears. As my mother said, "How lucky are we, that saying good-bye to our family makes us sad instead of relieved?" Yes, that's true, but it still sucks saying good-bye.
My parents and I then cleaned up the rental flat, carried groceries over to my flat, and then just hung out at my flat for a bit having lunch and chatting about this and that. Too quickly, it was 2 PM and time for THEM to leave. The cab came, I took them downstairs and hugged them good-bye, and swore to myself that I wouldn't cry this time. At least this time I knew that I'd be seeing them in less than a month at Christmas!
Once everybody was gone however, I sat in my empty flat for maybe 30 minutes before I realised I was feeling sad and down in the dumps now with everyone gone. It was funny because my cousin had recently sent me an article explaining how introverts are ("Caring for Your Introvert" in the Atlantic), and it talked about how "Extroverts are energized by people, and wilt or fade when alone. They often seem bored by themselves, in both senses of the expression. Leave an extrovert alone for two minutes and he will reach for his cell phone." Gosh, that sounded familiar...
And so I texted my Friend from Kindergarten, basically asking the classic kid question, "Can I come over and play?" And what I LOVE about my Friend from Kindergarten, is that with any other guy you would worry that this was too forward or too weird to just suddenly declare you wanted to travel an hour across town to hang out on a Sunday night, but with this guy he just said, "Sounds great. Here's my address."
As soon as I got out on the Tube, I felt better, and was just perked up by the prospect of seeing my Friend from Kindergarten.
When I arrived at his new place, I have to admit I was stunned. He opened the door and I walked into a massive living room easily larger than my entire flat, with a stunning view of Tower Bridge all lit up at night, which he could admire from his floor-to-ceiling windows or out on his balcony. The whole place had tons of closet space, a beautiful kitchen, and two bedrooms, all to himself. I was amazed that he could have an entire bedroom in central London, just for guests. What luxury!
We sat and chatted at his place for a bit, and then he suggested we go out for a drink. So we walked for a bit and ended up in a really cute, cozy pub near where he lived. I liked it as there were candles on all of the tables with tons of wax in them, like you might find in an old-fashioned Italian restaurant. It wad warm red walls, big comfy sofas, and worn wooden tables with mis-matching chairs everywhere. Instantly, I was fond of it.
He bought the first round, we found a nice table in a corner, and sat down to chat over our pints of Guinness. I'd always known that my Friend from Kindergarten made more money than I did, but it was a really interesting glimpse into his job, his lifestyle, and his worldview. He's a trader on the DAX (the German stock exchange), and in the current economic situation, traders are often blamed for the stock market collapse with their excessive risk taking. But as I chatted to him, I realised that his job inherently rewarded risk taking, and that he and all of his fellow traders made their money by taking excessive risks with millions and billions of dollars. I assume my Friend from Kindergarten is good at it, for even with some upcoming rounds of layoffs at his firm, he's already been reassured he's quite safe. And he certainly has enough money to ride it out. But as he talked about playing poker and fantasy football, and how in Vegas they give you chips to bet with so it doesn't feel like real money, I was incredibly struck how on some level my friend is just a professional gambler. One who is apparently good at it, to be fair, but still a guy who makes money by having nerves of steel and a great appetite for risk.
We stayed for two more rounds as we talked about Mormonism (he'd recently seen a documentary about it), and just various things that interested us, as we're both the types who will read Wikipedia for fun. Sometimes I'm not sure if we're friends just because we have such a shared history together (talking about friends from high school can sustain our conversation for a long time), or because we actually have such similar intellectual curiosities. Whatever it is, it's always fun to spend time with him.
He then confessed that he was desperate for Chipotle for dinner, and so wanted to make the trek out there, several Tube stops away. Since I miss Mexican burritos as well and it was on my way home anyway, I went with him. Not like I need any more food at home (I've got tons of leftovers!), but we bought two burritos each, one for dinner now and one for lunch the next day.
We sat having our dinner burritos, and I asked him about the mustache that he was growing. At this point it had reached quite epic proportions, much to my surprise, as I'd never thought of my Friend from Kindergarten as being the kind of guy who could grow significant facial hair. I guess you discover a lot of things about the guys you know during the month of November.
I was impressed with his dedication to having a scratchy upper lip for a month, and his personal connection the charity he was raising money for, so I gave hm £20 towards his charity. You have to do that every now and then, I suppose...
Finally went home, sad to come back to an empty flat, but glad to have had a great evening out. Thank goodness for friends like that.
No comments:
Post a Comment