Our Favorite Bartender

After dinner, with Potamus tucked quietly into the recliner with grammy, we headed on out to a little local bar that employs our favorite bartender. Yes, we have a favorite bartender. Back when Boof and I were dating, his sister was still living at home, and his other sister would come down from Bellevue for a weekly happy hour. And this bartender was the kind of guy you could say, “just make me something,” and he would come up with the PERFECT drink to compliment whatever mood we were in that night. And he’s sometimes give us complimentary drinks, and we’d tip generously, and have a grand time. And then he moved and got a different job and we didn’t see him again for about two years.

Then, Boof and I got a Groupon for a local bar/restuarant and lo and behold, there was favorite bartender! So, since Boof’s sister is back from Georgia (sans husband this time, boo!), we thought we’d pretend we were back in the good ol’ days and visit with our old friend. And boy he didn’t disappoint! The drinks ranged from rasberry limeade tasting, to a cucumber mixed margarita (maybe strawberry cucumber?) was DELISH. Yes! A fun weekend overall, connecting again as adults, rather than parents and aunties and uncles!

And if the drinks weren’t awesome enough, the mac n’cheese and fried cheese curds from Beecher’s cheese…AMAZING. I know, I know, we’re talking about CHEESE, which I’ve tried to give up, but seriously, this stuff was amazing!

Sometimes it is just really good to get out, get a drink, and act like a “kid” again!

 

Breaking up is hard to do…

Sometimes, out of nowhere, I am punched in the gut with nostalgia. This week it happened while perusing Offbeat Home & Life’s daily offerings and I cam across the article: Exploring the very painful world of friendship breakups. I could barely read the title before I was bombarded with a rush of memories. There was Peter Pan in the park, laying awake and watching the starts in her pickup truck while we overlooked our college town, and long long loooong talks after church on the green couch in the intern room. There were Survivor Nights and Bible Studies and many talks of demons and the perfect boyfriend and family drama and Narnia.

She was my best friend.

After college we both moved away and life happened. The first year we talked all the time, even racking up a 1,000 roaming phone bill while I lived in New York for a summer, and made all sorts of wonderful plans about our future as friends. And then, we stopped talking.

It probably wasn’t that dramatic, because, she was in my wedding, and then I was in hers. But weekly phone-calls turned to monthly turned to every six months. My heart felt broken in a way that a man has never done. It was this ache for a friendship love that I cannot accurately describe. And, without Facebook, I don’t think I’d know anything about her life. But, it’s not for a lack of trying.

When I tell people about this soulmate-friend, because that’s how it feels, they always question why I don’t call her. And I say, “I did, for a long time,” and it’s true. I called. I called and called and left messages. I waited months and then called again. And, at some point, I need to have reciprocity. Despite my anguish over her not being in my life, I cannot simply spend my energy on a one-sided relationship. I can’t. I don’t know what went wrong between the two of us, if anything, or if time and distance and life have just gotten in the way, so I don’t blame her or myself for the brokenness. But I am sad, nonetheless about the absence of her friendship in my life. And I want to tell her:

Dear Lewis-

Let’s be friends again like old times?

Love,
Clark