the cycle of lunch (m)

Found myself shopping in Newton today, near my friend Mary's house.  On the spur of the moment, I call her for lunch.  She's free.

We go to Legal Seafoods.  We always go to Legal Seafoods.  The hostess, an older woman named Joanne tells me my friend is "not here yet."  As you can tell, Mary frequents this high-end seafood establishment quite often.

She arrives dressed in navy shorts, a slate blue tee shirt and Crocs in yet a third shade of blue.  No make-up.  This is what I love about her.  What you see is what you get.

We sit at the bar and drive the waiter crazy.  Me with my custom orders ( the chopped salad with special dressing, hold the dressing, hold the cheese, ice tea with lemon on the side and Splenda) and her with her special instructions (bring the oysters out at the same time as the steamers, only one roll and one pat of butter).  He's seen us before and must cringe when we come in.

She sees a middle-aged woman across the bar tasting wine in a rather elaborate way (sniff, sniff, taste, gurgle, swallow) and launches into a conversation about alcoholics....Mary's voice carries.  The woman puts her glass down immediately.

We talk,we laugh and then the check comes.  I pay.  I HATE IT WHEN YOU PAY...NOW I OWE YOU she says.  We go through this drill every time. We alternate paying and the one who doesn't pay fusses over the fact that the other paid.

It occurs to me that, God willing, this scene will play out over and over again for many years.  I think that's why we never split the bill.  It ensures the other one will pick up the phone within a few weeks and invite the other to lunch.

I look forward to it.