Lunch with Zhan and Andy

My phone buzzed at 11 AM, waking me up. It was my friend Zhan, asking me if I wanted to join him and our friend Andy (a mutual friend from Balliol) for lunch at noon. Not wanting to trek all of the way across town to London Bridge, I asked first, "In Notting Hill?" When he replied in the affirmative, I immediately wrote back, "I'd love to!"

(I will admit to a half moment's hesitation about doing something today in case the Tall South African wanted to get together, but after skipping Ultimate Frisbee last weekend, I was determined not to do anything so idiotic again this weekend. So if the Tall South African hadn't called me by now, that was his loss).

I always joke that Zhan is the ultimate "guy's guy", in that he just has absolutely no feminine side. Which is fine, it makes him the guy that he is, but it also meant that he had no concept of how long it would take a girl who has just gotten out of bed to get ready. "See you at Andy's in a half-hour?" he wrote. Given that I'd have to walk out the door in 10 minutes for that to happen, I begged for 45 minutes and then launched myself into the shower. (In the end, I arrived at Andy's an hour and ten minutes later. Sometimes, a girl just really needs a shower).

Still, I made it to Andy's, where we all had some tea and found ourselves discussing the book the two of them had been talking about when I arrived, "The Paradox of Choice: Why More Is Less" by Barry Schwartz. Apparently Andy has been reading it, but as we talked we realised that Zhan is the true "optimizer", or basically the person who spends so long looking for the best option that he can become paralysed by indecision. I'd always known that Zhan is somewhat of a perfectionist, but it was interesting to have the whole thing distilled down to a clear academic diagnosis.

After our tea, we debated what to do for lunch, and so decided to go for a walk, seeing if we could find a place to eat outside. Andy knew of a pub a bit off the beaten track, so we went there, and had just the good fortune to find one table free, right out in the sunshine. Perfect!

What followed then was an excellent lunch over pizzas (alas, this place didn't do traditional pub food), where we talked about everything from Zhan's plans to buy a house and his satisfaction with his job, to Andy's experiences working in paediatrics and his upcoming internship in South Africa. And somehow we even ended up discussing the Coriolis Effect and using salt shakers and tea pots to illustrate the vernal equinox.

Lately I find I've had the Eleanor Roosevelt quote stuck in my head, "Great minds discuss ideas; Average minds discuss events; Small minds discuss people." And compared to the house party the previous night, I realised how much more I was enjoying myself to the previous night, where the level of discussion was often to be found lacking. Not that I don't enjoy catching up on people's news and what they're up to, but such conversation can only sustain you for so long. At some point, you find yourself desperate for more interesting conversation, something that really has substance. So if you're lucky you move onto events (the Republican primaries always make for good conversational fodder), and at best you find yourself onto the really random stuff (like the value of the monarchy or at what age we think children can consent to their own medical care). Now perhaps some of those conversations can only be the by-product of a long-term friendship, as you have to be really comfortable with people to get into these sorts of debates with them. Yet I'll still argue, what I love most about our friends, is that they are the people who have the minds that "go there." Call it nerdiness or intelligence, what I like about most of our really great friends, is that they just have the sorts of minds where I find myself truly interested to learn what they think. Because their thoughts are just more fascinating than those of the average individual.

After lingering over lunch, we then walked back to Andy's flat to watch the rugby game. I texted the Tall South African at halftime to ask him if he was watching, to then get a call from him. I was sort of embarrassed to leave the guys and talk to the Tall South African for a bit, where I learned that he was already at the train station getting ready to go home. Glad now that I'd gone for lunch with Zhan and Andy, particularly as I'd had such a good time.

Finally, although I could tell the Tall South African wanted to talk to me more for entertainment (he was just standing around at the train station), the game was getting interesting so I hung up on him and went back to watch it with the boys. Plus, I was feeling embarrassed to have taken the call from the Tall South African, as it indicates far too much of an interest in him. I do wonder at times if there's ever anything there with Andy (he's such a nice guy, smart and easy on the eyes), but I certainly won't convince him to think of me as anything other than a friend if I'm answering calls from other guys whilst in his company.

At last the game was over (England won!), and so Andy decided to head off to the hospital for a few hours, and Zhan and I walked back to Notting Hill Gate. I have to admit, I was itching to call the Tall South African back now that the game was over, but I made myself be patient and pay attention to my conversation with Zhan. Finally when we parted however, I was able to get my phone out and give the boy a call, a reward for my restraint!

He was just wasting time on the train, and so was happy to listen to me and tell me stories. Apparently he'd ended up staying up until 6 AM (after returning to the party at 4 AM and being disappointed that I'd left), and then this morning the whole group at the house had gone out for brunch whilst Lotte's fiancee had paid for a cleaner (no wonder she likes that boy!) to return the flat to it's pre-party state. He told me about some interesting people he'd met at the party, and I had to say that overall he'd done better than I had.

Finally his stop was coming up, so he rang off, leaving me to make the rest of the walk home on my own. Such a pity I didn't get to spend more time with him, but so it goes. Admittedly, he remarked on this as well, complaining about how he'd been looking forward to seeing me, but had barely gotten to spend any time with me. Oh well, I know this with the Young Dutchman by now, that parties are terrible places to catch up. Maybe he'll eventually learn too. (As it keeps occurring to me every so often, I must remember how incredibly young he is!)

Still, I returned home having had a lovely afternoon, and glad I didn't waste it hoping that he'd call. Looking forward to our next afternoon lunch get-together!