Yesterday I had dinner with one of my best friends, Daphne. After not seeing each other for two entire months, it was easy to find ourselves leaving the restaurant three and a half hours and a pitcher of sangria later. Because we both had so much to tell the other, we decided our best strategy for catching up would be to take turns telling 10-minute stories. So, roughly 21 stories each. Yup.
You can imagine how much the waiter loved having us. After one comment too many about how we liked “taking our time” or how we “didn’t touch our dessert yet,” Daphne turned to him, smiled, and said, “Are you trying to rush us out?” He got really flustered, denied it with a laugh, and didn’t come back to the table again except to bring the check an hour later.
Listening to her go on and on about the past two idiots she dated made me laugh…because between her and the four other close friends I’ve been talking to lately…if you changed the names of the guys I could have been telling the stories, myself. I must have said “That’s so funny you said that – remind me to tell you why when you’re done” 15 times because our stories so closely resembled one another’s because, as Daphne put it, “All guys are exactly the same.”