Prompt: Who is your oldest friend?
I don’t think about it much because it’s heartbreaking and a subconscious trait throughout my family history. The simple version is that I don’t have any friends; over the years, those I thought were friends grew apart. I don’t have the luxury to call and vent, go on vacations and meet up for brunch. Thinking quickly, I can’t name each of my family members’ best friends or oldest friends.
Early this year, I joined a Facebook group dedicated to those making friends. I introduced myself, met someone twice, and last spoke to them a while ago. Knowing this, I decided to throw the paint on the wall and see what sticks. Before I made that decision, I decided to run by my experiences with my family to see if I was in my head or making a mistake. I believe in redos, so in the first meeting, I blamed the nerves, so I decided to meet up for the second time to see if there was a difference, and there wasn’t a difference.
Although the encounters didn’t end up how I would’ve liked, I learned some valuable lessons, and it exposed me to my likes and dislikes. I don’t see the satisfaction of name-dropping, and I doubt this person even knows I write. I don’t see the reason to name her; the point of this piece is to list some of my non-negotiables regarding adult friendships.
Can’t Wait to Be Seated
I’ve been to dinner with my family often, and we are okay with waiting to be seated, sometimes 30–40 minutes while we wait; we talk and interact, so no time is wasted. I also understand the beauty of making reservations. If they have them available, make them especially for new restaurants.
These lessons are about the person I met in the group, so this is one person.
One day she texted me about a new brunch place. I looked at the menu and asked when she wanted to meet up. I agreed. I knew the name, price point, what food they served, and what drink I thought about getting. I took a Lyft. I was a few minutes late, so I shot her a quick text that I may be a few minutes late; she quickly replied no worries, there’s a wait. As I was pulling up, she texted me again, and I didn’t read it because whatever she had to say could be told face-to-face. She mentioned it’s a…