Day Drunk in Harvard Square

It’s not really like me to drink, much less drink during the day. But I had to make a quick trip home to Boston and my best friend from kindergarten agreed to shuttle me to and from Logan airport.  After visiting my parents and taking care of what I needed to in my childhood home, I headed back into the city. It’s hard to time things when you fly in and fly out of a city on the same day and we ended up with plenty of time to spare.

So, we sat ourselves down at a swanky bar in an Italian restaurant and starting calling for the cocktails. We hadn’t seen each other in far too long and there was too much time to recover in one afternoon:  our children, our relationships, our parents, our health, their health, our jobs, our friends, our present, our futures, our hopes, and the world’s largest prettiest martinis and a bartender with the largest fakest lips (why?)

A favorite expression of mine is this. The ones who tell the stories rule the world. And, truth be told, on that afternoon, I did most of the story-telling. It’s normal. And maybe it’s a crime.  Maybe it’s being single and lonely most of the time, so that when I get an audience I have so much to talk about. Maybe it’s just who I am and how I am. Maybe I’m just lucky that I have patient friends who yield the floor, far to willing to let me rule the world, even if just for a day drunk afternoon in Harvard Square.

Day 11, #FreeSpirit