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Two Friends Go Out for Lunch and Almost Have a Conversation

“Remember his name?” “No, but I know who you mean.”

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Me: “I love this place. It has a French name, so it seems tonier, even if it isn’t.”

Friend: “Yes, it’s La Providence, right?”

Me: “La Provence, but you were close.”

Friend: Shrugs shoulders. “I wonder if they have…what’s that roast beef sandwich?”

Me: “Are you talking about brisket?”

Friend: “No, no, you dip it in juice.”

Me: “French Dip?”

Friend: “Yes, French Dip. This is a French restaurant, I should have remembered.”

Me: “I watched the movie The Fisher King last night. It had that actor I loved in it.”

Friend: “The funny one who got dementia?”

Me: “Not him, but I like him, too. No, the one who was in The Summer of 42 and The Big Lebowski.”

Friend: “Oh, I loved those movies.”

Me: “Robin Williams.”

Friend: “That wasn’t Robin Williams!”

Me: “No, Robin Williams was the funny one who got dementia. He was so quick-witted. Amazing.”

Friend: “I used to be quick-witted. Now I’m barely funny.”

Me: “We all used to be quicker-witted.”

Friend: Looking at her I-phone. “Jeff Bridges.”

Me: “You’re cheating.”

Friend: “If it weren’t for the internet and GPS, I couldn’t go to lunch and discuss anything.”

Me: “I love Jeff Bridges. I like him better the older he gets.”

Friend: “He just stays age appropriate.”

Me: “Well, at least I’m mooning after age-appropriate actors.”

Friend: “When you can remember their names.”

Me: “Julianne Moore was in The Big Lebowski, too.”

Friend: “Do you know she’s over 60?”

Me: “She must have had work done.”

Friend: “Well, it doesn’t show. Now Dolly Parton, some others, it shows.”

Friend: “I haven’t had work done and I don’t look like Dolly Parton. You can’t be big-chested and erect if you know what I mean. My skin is getting creepy.”

Me: “You mean crepey.”

Friend: “No, I mean creepy. I don’t have to wear a mask for Halloween.”

Me: “Do you think you have brain fog?”

Friend: “Brain fog. What’s that?”

Me: “When you can’t remember anything or think clearly.”

Friend: “My mind used to be a steel trap. Now it’s a rusty sieve. Is that brain fog?”

Me: “No, I think that’s normal.”

The waiter appears table side, pad in the embossed leather holder in hand. “And what would you ladies like to eat?”

Friend, looking at me: “What did I want to eat?”

Me: “I’ll have what she’s having.”

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2 Responses

  1. SingingFrogPress
    | Reply

    Thanks for this Sharon. I was laughing out loud all the way through it!

  2. Cheryl Layne West
    | Reply

    Verybatch?- I think? I can relate at age soon-to- be 72, with also creepy skin, creeping downward. Isn’t gravity a bitch?

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