I went to dinner with my friend Allie on Monday night. I absolutely adore her – she’s completely insane and hot. Nevermind the fact that she’s also really high maintenance. Well, not really ‘high maintenance’ per se. She just has really, really great taste. Did I also happen to mention that she’s pretty insane? Nothing ever comes easy with Allie (getting to her place after work; waiting until around 6:30 to get to her place when in truth I get off of work at 4) but we somehow manage to get along together well. She’s one of the nicest, most down to earth and beautiful people that I know.
I first met her when I was bopping around looking for a new job. I decided to leave the place that was only 5 minutes from my house so that I could work downtown again. One of the recruiters that contacted me at the time was Allie. Our first meeting was absolutely hilarious – I think I was the first candidate that she met that commented on how she looks. From that point she would call me when she had a potential creative position fill and, after the first minute of business, we’d begin chatting about everything under the sun and innocently flirt with one another. For instance, during one call she offered me a Creative Director opportunity in DC that I declined, which took all of about a minute to get through. We then immediately launched into a 30 minute conversation about what each of us was wearing, our plans for the weekend, hair, and theories of why trucker caps are a sign of the devil.
When I moved to North Carolina for 6 months, the party went on hiatus. We would occaissionally call and write each other but it was like every other long distance friendship: something that was more in the periphery which seemed to be fading as time crept on. During an evening drive home in March, I rang her up and told her what Angela and I had decided and said “I’m coming home!” and we both squealed like two teenage girls.Since I’ve been home we’ve gone out for dinner twice. The first time we went to Creme right after work; we sat at the bar and made friends with our bartender, Nick. She had some shrimp dish which made me gag when it was served and I got this kick ass roast with scalloped potatoes which were absolutely amazing. Like a couple who has been with each other for years, she casually just reached over to my plate while we were talking and helped herself to my dinner, marveling at the tenderness of the beef and the succulent taste of the potatoes. We stayed there for about 5 hours. The last time we went to Open City. I met her at her apartment where I got the tour of the place, we had cocktails, she changed from work clothes to something more casual and cooler. It was a nice evening to be walking through that part of the district while chatting the night away.
We’ve agreed to do this twice a month, which is fine with me. I enjoy listening to her talk about her current relationship(s), shopping, family, work and such. Every time we get together it’s like we’ve been friends for forever. We’ve reached a very nice comfort zone – we speak freely about everything and we just laugh our way through most of the night. You have no idea how much I value her as a friend. I would never do anything to hurt her and I trust she feels the same way.
You always take the cute girls.
I want to go to dinner! You stood me up for lunch this week! You owe me, Mister! Why does she get to go out with you in the evenings but you only meet me for lunch or for a drink?