The nature of friendship
I wander up the drive. It's pretty long, but his car's at the bottom, so he's sure to be in. Sure enough, when I get to the porch, there he is, my friend, Dave.He's perched on a little stool in a kind of half-lotus position with his right ankle up over his other knee. He's trying, without much luck, to get his last walkikng-boot off.
"Pat!"
No hello or anything, just;
"Pat, do me a favour, go inside and get some petroleum jelly for me"
I start walking inside, shaking my head. and just as I'm getting into the kitchen he shouts;
"Bed-side table"
I stifle a grimace and say nothing.
So I head back out to the porch holding this miniature bucket of jelly like it's a hair I've just picked out of my soup. Dave's still there, sweating and muttering expletives between groans of exertion, tugging away at that fat leather boot like he's midwifing for a reluctant walrus.
Until POP! his arms shoot up and suddenly he's got this boot in both hands raised over his head like a new-born offering to the gods. He holds it there just as long as feels right, then slumps back against the wall, beaten.
I set the jelly down on the patio table in front of him and shoot him a look. Visibly exhausted, his eyebrows are ever so slightly raised and he's shrugging.
Just as I turn back into the kitchen he pipes up again;
"Well don't just leave it there"
Comments (23)
You're too kind.
Actually, this is the first one for a while. I've been busy with work and other bits and bats.
Did you guys learn anything about the meaning of friendship?
Friendship's great however it comes about, Calyso :)
Thanks, that's right.
There's always an element of 'winding each other up' between my close friends too. In a funny way, of course.
Absolutely, that point by which all the Ps and Qs have gone out the window, even when you need a favour.
That's what friends are for...
It's a girl thing.
The 'girl thing' seems somehow a little more sophisticated than my story. I should have worked a little artisitic exchange into the narrative.
That's much more 'our level'.
Sometimes I look back at my comments thinking, "really.... did I write that? It made sense at the time."
Maybe hippies are just lazy punks - feeling the anarchy, but too stoned to really do anything about it.
I saw it, I was just too stoned to do anything about it.
I'm a bug punk/garage fan. Not that horrible 2-step 'garij', but 'garaaaaage', like the Stooges and what have you.
Your story is that of a friendship that has been one for many years...the ease of it and the humour...a good story!!