February 2020

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Showing all posts made in the month of February 2020.

What (not) to Say to a Dying Guy

My dear friend’s husband is dying. He’s also my husband’s closest friend, and a bit of a difficult guy, but affable and generous, fun and flattering by turns. A few years ago, after I cut my hair short and dyed it platinum blonde, he won my undying affection for comparing me to Charlize Theron on Dancing With the Stars. The flattery went to my head, and I had the poor judgement to repeat it to a co-worker at REI, a brotherly friend. Oh, he said, really? She’s one of the most beautiful women on the planet… I think you look more like Annie Lennox. Another co-worker told me he liked my hair better once the white-blonde dye job grew out some and dark roots grounded it. Before that, he said, I looked like Bart Simpson. When I repeated this in the break room to another younger co-worker, asking, Would you…

Are You My Mother?

The Unexpected Cheese-white cheddar laced with parmesan- is the sample offering at Trader Joe’s as I run in to get a few groceries before heading back for my daughter at ice skating. I take one, happy to see it’s finger food. All their samples can be finger food, even the slaws and salads, eaten in a few bites without the plastic-wrapped-plastic-fork, but then you need a napkin. I add the cheese to my cart, then turn back for the coffee sample, wishing I had my double-wall espresso cup in my bag, but I’ve gotten careless. A slender lady in a tailored gray wool coat is taking her time getting coffee, adding cream, stirring, tasting. Her cart is pulled across the sampling space and people are starting to line up. I move to one side of her, slip around to nab a tiny cup. She looks at me, then steps back…