Old Couple

This is written solely by me, I would be very hurt if anyone were to take it without asking first.  If you want to use it or link to it from your own page, please ask me first. 

    I came home tried, cranky and ready to punch anything that moved. I had hoped to come into my apartment and relax; but no sooner had I unlocked the door and opened it did the cats start crying, the phone ring and I remember that I forgot that I needed milk.

     Frustrated with my life, I answered the phone, "what?!"

     "Hey, sorry! Did I call at a bad time?" It was Laura, my best female friend. Of course she had called at a bad time, when wasn't a bad time; but there was no telling her any of this.

     "No, I just got in and I haven't eaten today so my blood sugar is really low." I told her this and promptly shut off my brain to her response. I already knew what it would be; 'you really shouldn't do that to yourself. I know you're busy; but that is no excuse to allow your health to suffer.' Of course I should take better care of myself than I do, I knew that. But, I'm trying to do the amount of work that normally four people would do, school and my own research project and I only have twenty-four hours a day to accomplish all of this. Once I was sure she had stopped lecturing me on my health, I started listening to her again.

     ". . . so, anyway. When are you coming out with us again? We've missed you. You promised, so there is no getting out of it now. You promised, but I still can't seem to drag your ass out of your apartment."

     Not this again. Ever sense I turned the legal drinking age, Laura had dragged me out to clubs and bars where I watched her, her boyfriend, and her friends get plastered. All while I drank my one bourbon and seven. I had successfully avoided it for about two months sense the last time.

     "Laura, I'm too tried. I'm lucky I made it back home from school."

     "Nonsense, drink some coffee, get dressed and we will come by to pick you up in about two hours."

     That 'we' could only mean that Mike was over there. I had set them up, an act of stupidity on my part. Mike was a smart, good smelling, good-looking guy and I had (at one point, but no longer) had the biggest crush on him. Now I was having problems saying a civil sentence to him. I might be able to, if it weren't that all of Laura and mine's conversations revolve about him and how great he is. For the first week I could excuse her giddiness and silliness. Now it is sickening.

     "Laura, I really don't want to. I was just going to eat, shower, finish a couple of graphs for my project and go to bed.  Tomorrow I'm working out in the field; I don't have time to go out and drink. Maybe if you give me a two weeks warning I can fit in dinner or something." I hoped beyond hope that she would drop it. Usually spouting off a busy schedule would make her stop the pursuit.

     "Ab's, if you don't go out with us this time I'm not going to ask ever again. . . "

     Oh damn! Here my best friend has just given me the perfect out, and I can't take it because I don't want to hurt her feelings.  "Fine Laura, I'll go. But I really need to be home before 2 tonight. I need to get some sleep."

     "Great Ab. How about we come over right now, it's eight and we could get something to eat."

     She was telling me the time so I would move my butt, valuable drinking time was being wasted and I was still in my jeans that I had been wearing for the last week without washing them. I realized that there was no sleep for me tonight. I would have to get my partner in research to drive out to the field. "Fine, where do you want to eat?"

     "We'll decide, you just be ready."

     "Fine, see you in about twenty."

     "Okay, bye."

     "Bye." The other side of the line went dead and I felt like crying. While I had been on the phone, I fixed my cats' problem; they wanted to be feed. I also had noticed that there was cold coffee in the pot still. I nuked it and then remembered that I forgot to get any milk. I had to use powdered creamer. It tasted nothing like coffee, but I swallowed it in three giant gulps and went to my bedroom.

     In there my bed mocked me. I had taken the time to make it this morning and it looked comfortable. I looked at myself in the full-length mirror I had gotten (for reasons that I still can't figure out) and just left leaning against my bedroom wall. My jeans were dirty, mud stained them, grass stained them and there were of course coffee stains on them.  They were my favorite pair.

     I shucked them off and threw them on to the 'I'm-not finished-wearing-these yet' pile. I figured that tomorrow no one would care what I had spilled on myself. I then pulled off my T-shirt. I prefer T-shirts and jeans to anything else in my closet, but Laura would make me change if I weren't wearing something 'appropriate' for going out. This meant a nice tank top or a 'boob' shirt. At least I could still wear my jeans. She also won't allow me to wear my hiking boots or running shoes. I also had to wear my hair (which I liken to a red curly mop) down, instead of in a ponytail. It took me fifteen minutes to get ready, entirely to much time. Especially when you take in to account that I am not going to the clubs and bars in hoped of finding a 'man'. Of course, men don't go to the clubs and bars; they already have someone and don't need to go out 'meat shopping'.  The idea of meeting someone while out is ridiculous.

     There was her knock at the door, constant pounding. I again walked past my mocking bed, into my living room and to the door. I opened it and she stood there with Mike behind her with his arms wrapped about her, a position referred to as spooning. I felt like punching her, and before I knew what I was doing; I did. I then shut the door.

     Mike then pounded on the door, "Abigail, you open this door right now. You okay babe?" I assumed that last remark was to her and not to me. No one called me babe without accepting that there would be pain coming their way.

     "I think she broke my nose."

     I knew that I hadn't broken her nose, I hadn't even hit her nose, I hit her squarely in the jaw. I at first wasn't going to open the door, but I knew that would be impolite and see as how I had already hit her, I could at least offer her some ice for her jaw.

     I let them in. Her hand was on the left side of her jaw (where I had hit her) and he was holding her up as if I had knocked her out and she was on the verge of being unconscious. I had to laugh. The scene was comical and it made me feel a lot better.  I then went into my bedroom again and changed back into my scummy clothing. There would be no going out tonight. At the very least I had figured out a way of not being dragged out to the clubs and bars.

     When I returned they were on the couch, she was resting her head in his lap.

     "Aren't you going to say something?" Mike looked pissed. I knew that if he decided to punch me, I wouldn't be standing. I also knew that he didn't hit girls. I decided to just sit at my computer and start working on my graphs for my project.

     "Well, come on now. You can't except to just get away with punching her. Can you?  We were just going to go out and have some fun and you wreaked the whole thing." Mike was preaching, I hate him even more than usual when he preaches. I had to restrain myself from throwing something at him. He continued on and on.

     "Mike, shut up! I have had enough of your self-righteous bullshit. Both of you know that I have a lot of my plate, I have no time for fun. Besides, if I were going to have fun it wouldn't be at a bar. All you two want is someone to drive your collective asses home. I am tried, cranky and at least now I don't feel like punching anything. I didn't think I was going to, but I did. The only reason I go out with you two is because I don't want to hurt Laura's feelings. I don't even like you anymore. The more time I have been around you, the more I realize what an utter jackass you are. I'm not being cute right now; I'm not kinding.  Every time I have to spend any time with you I dread it. I would get plastered so I could stand you, but then I might say how I really feel and that would wreak a 'good time'."

     Now I was feeling much better. For one brief second he looked hurt, but then the damn frat boy attitude took over and he ignored what I said.

     "Is that any reason to hit her? What has she ever done to you?"

     "Let me see. . ." I started to count of things on my fingers, making a grocery list of things she had gotten me to do that I would of prefer never to have done. " . . .wasting valuable study time, feel bad that I have a research project that requires my time, not liking you, wanting time by myself, and so many other things that it would be silly to list them all."

     "Ab, you never had to go out with us, I never made you feel bad about your research project. You are so completely unfair."

     "WHAT!!!! You badger me until I until I go out with you, you complain that I spend too much time working, studying or on my project. You have even cried about it to me, just to get me to go out to dinner. I lost three days because I went out, instead of staying at the lab and finishing up. And when I say no, you come and get my anyway. The only way I have avoided not be dragged out for two months was by not taking any of my calls, but screening them. I just never picked up when you called. I wouldn't of tonight; but I was so tried when I got in that I didn't even think about it. I just wanted the phone to stop ringing."

     "You have been avoiding my calls?"

     Now Laura looked really hurt. How could I tell her that I didn't feel like being stuck with her overly perkiness when I was feeling tried and depressed? How could I tell her that I didn't feel like being inundated with happy-sappy that oozed from Mike and her? How could I say that I just wanted to be alone and that when I felt like being with people I would call her. I couldn't say any of these things. So, I said the next best thing, a short (and hopefully sweeter) version of the truth where I could gloss over how much I didn't feel like being around a overly happy nutcase and her dim witted counterpart.

     "Laura, you know you're my best female friend, but I haven't been able to stomach all of the happy-sappy that has been coming from you. So, I thought better than dragging you down in the muck and the mire; I just didn't pick up the phone, I sent back short emails and I left you alone with your happiness."

     Now, I wasn't excepting her to say 'oh Ab, I wish you would have told me. I would have been more supportive.' That never happens in the real world.

     Instead, she stopped looking hurt and just looked pissed. "Best female friend am I? Fine, you don't feel like being perked up, I won't bother to try anymore. Come one Mike, we're leaving." She pulled herself up of the couch and Mike's lap and headed for the door.

     I wasn't sure what I should do. Part of me was really relieved. No more having to be happy if I didn't feel like it. Of course, that would only be the first half-hour of the seven or eight hours we would spend with each other. This is where the other part of me was telling me to say something. But, pride won over everything else. I watched her leave with Mike trailing behind looking confused and complaining that he wasn't buzzed yet.

                                         Three Weeks Later

    I was working late at home on the computer, putting in data from the field. I had to continually make myself concentrate on the task at hand ever since I had told Laura that I couldn't stand her when she was happy. Okay, I didn't quite say that; but perhaps I should have just said that instead of, 'I just never picked up when you called.'

     I had thought about picking up the phone and calling her, but again pride won out. I am smart enough (only barely) to realize that a wonderful friendship was being thrown away because of my pride, but my ego wins every time, usually.

     Of course, there are exceptions to every rule. That night was one of them, I broke down and called her. I was just sitting at my computer with my coffee cup in my hands not doing anything productive. I needed to talk to her, if only to help my own conscience get over the lose of a best friend. I am not very brave; I'm just very stupid so I don't think about being scared.

     I dialed her number, waited while it rang three times. I was on the verge of hanging up, as I didn't want to talk to her machine, when she picked up.

     A very sleepy Laura answered, "Hello?" It was then that I had the sense to look at the clock, four a.m. I thought about hanging up, but remembered that she had caller ID.

     "Hi Laura, sorry to call so late. I didn't even think to look at the clock, I'll call back when it isn't four in the morning."

     "Ab, is that you?" She sounded astonished. I suppose she thought that the friendship was dead and buried.

     "Uhmmm, yup. I'm sorry for calling so late. I was working at the computer and finally decided to call and apologize for decking you and I didn't even think to look at the clock. Sorry."

     "It's okay. I was wondering when your conscience wouldn't let you work. What did it take, three and a half weeks?"

     "Only three, and I'll have you know that I am two weeks behind schedule. And that is with working until five in the morning and only cat naps during my classes. I'm a mess. I'll just say that I'm sorry and let you sleep."

     I began to put the handset down on its' cradle when I heard Laura yelling on the other side. I quickly put it back to my ear.

     "Ab, I'm already up. If you have coffee over there, I'll come over and we can talk. I was going to get up in a few hours anyway."

     "Umm, are you sure? It is four in the morning. Only crazies are up at this time of the morning."

     "I'll be over in about fifteen minutes." The other side of the line went dead and I got up to put on another pot of coffee.

     About twenty minutes later there was Laura's signature knock at my door. I answer it, "sorry, we don't want any," and closed the door, it was a running gag between us. I then reopened the door and let her in.

     "Sorry it took me so long to get over here, but traffic was awful." She smiled, dropped her stuff of the floor next to the couch and went into the kitchen to get some coffee.

     I decided to just say that I was sorry and get it off my chest, "Laura, I'm sorry. I was a bad person. I should have never hit you; I'm not even sure why I did. All I can say is I'm sorry."

     There, I had said my piece and there was nothing for me to do but wait and see why she said.

     "Ab, the fact that you hit me isn't what bothered me the most. The fact that you avoided me for two months, that sucked! I know that you have avoided me for a couple of days before, usually you were really tried and you didn't feel like be bothered.  I understand that. I've done it to you; I've done that to Mike. But, there had to have been times where you weren't tried or cranky and you just ignored me. That sucks, and there is no getting away from that."

     I couldn't defend myself after that. I just stood there, in my kitchen looking at the floor.

     "But, you are one of my best friends and I know that you don't always want to go out; but I just want you to have fun. I can make allowances for you not liking to go out, but come on; avoiding my calls so you don't have to. That's lame! And you suck
because that's lame!"

     "I feel very ashamed. I'm sorry."

     "That's okay. How about you, me, Mike and someone you want go out for dinner and if you feel up to it a little drinking sometime?"

     What am I going to say now, no? Besides, a little dinner and a bourbon and seven sounded kind of good. "Okay, how about next Friday? This Saturday I have to go out into the field and Brad hates to drive the departments 4X4. Maybe Brad would like to go, he's kinda fun to watch drink, it doesn't take much and he'll try to buy your clothes off of you," then a moment of doubt entered my mind, "are you sure that everything's okay?"

     "Ab, I wouldn't of come over here at four a.m. if things weren't worth working out."

     "Laura, you realize that you and I are like an old couple? Just without the sex and we don't live together."

     "Ab, enough already. So what have you been up to lately?"

     We talked through two pots of coffee and she left for work at eight and I left for school at nine.

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