18 March 2009

Scotch and fur coats for our girlfriends.

People have wealth in different things.

Usually in New York, these things are tangible. Whether it’s money or jewelry, or even art donated to the Guggenheim, it is no secret that the city isn’t short on luxury and large pocket books.

I, too, am wealthy. More than most.

But I don’t have money. And the only nice jewelry I own is a cherished pair of diamond studs given to me by my father for my 21st birthday. I haven’t invested in anything, I don’t own a car and I don’t have a trust fund.

I am wealthy when it comes to friendship.

Over the years, I have met more faces than I could care to remember. I’ve had friendships end in flames and I’ve had friendships end in heartbreak. Over the years, I have loved and lost and loved and lost again. The only thing that was consistent was the unwavering support of a handful of friends.

Every girl in my opinion needs a select few in order to get through the day-to-day. These are individuals who have your best interest at heart, no matter what. There are no ulterior motives.

When I moved to New York, I left this group, physically. We left each other. One went to Seattle and two stayed in Oregon. My tight knit circle also extended to San Diego and Los Angeles. As a whole, we couldn’t get further apart. I lucked out when one of my dearest friends moved to New York a month after I did.

But even so, since moving here, I’ve traveled in a large group of one. And in that time, I have started an incredible and exhilarating relationship. And that relationship is with myself.

Last week, I took myself on a date. I went to Union Square to see a movie. Bitter New York theaters didn’t have matinee or student discounts (the reason why I still tote my school I.D.), I paid the horrific $12.50 to see Kate Winslet in “The Reader”.

After I took my seat in the fairly empty theater, I noticed two women at the bottom of the stadium steps. Both women looked to be in their late 90s, but that’s not why they caught my eye.

I was drawn to these women because they were adorned in their Sunday’s finest for a Thursday matinee. Both wearing full fur, floor length coats, matching felt hats and jewels that even the great Elizabeth Taylor would be envious of, the women were clutching each other’s hands.

As they made their way up the stairs, helping one another with each four-inch incline, I knew they were going to sit directly next to me—which they did. While they were getting settled in their seats, I couldn’t help but eavesdrop.

“After this,” one said. “I’m taking you back to my apartment and we’re going to drink some scotch.”

I had to turn my head to hide my instantaneous, foolish grin.

“Well what if I don’t want to drink scotch?” the other retorted. “It’s only 5 o’clock!”

“Well I don’t care what you say. We’re going to drink scotch after this.”

“How could I interject and get invited?” I thought to myself. I don’t even like scotch, but something tells me the liquor in this woman’s cabinet is as old as she is, and I’m all about having a cocktail with girlfriends.

“How much did you pay for the tickets?” asked the non-scotch drinker.

“I’m not even going to tell you. I told you, it’s my treat.”

“That’s nonsense. You tell me right now!”

I no longer felt the theater was robbing me. These two’s go-around was worth every penny.

“Excuse me, miss,” the non-scotch drinker asked me, fully turned in her seat. “How much is a movie ticket for a senior?”

“Well I’m not sure,” I tell her. “But my guess would be around $7.”

“Thank you,” she said now fully turned to her other side. “She, right there, told me a ticket costs $7, so here.” She gave a handful of wrinkled bills to the scotch drinker. “And I don’t want to hear anything else about it!”

To some, the banter of these two women might have sounded abrasive, but I understand what relationships between girlfriends are like. Sometimes you can get frustrated and blunt with your favorite people because they’re the only ones who know that it comes from a good place.

As the lights dimmed, and the first preview started to show, the scotch drinker leaned into her friend. “It’s very good to be with you.”

“And the same with you.”


  1. Beautiful picture......and in only 763 words.

  2. Absolutely beautiful. I'm 500+ miles away from my friends and this truly hits home for me. Thank you. You are quite the little observer and an outstanding writer.

  3. In response to your comment here (don't know how else to contact you):

    I'm sure Laura would love to hear from you. I cannot contact her until tomorrow sundown due to the holiday so send me an email to chasidheretic at gmail and I will forward your address to her.

  4. That's beautiful...and wonderfully entertaining!