I was at a friend’s home the other day. It was her turn to host our Unbook Club – where we don’t read or discuss books, we just eat and drink and gossip. (Saves time and energy, don’t you think? Why bother going through that intellectual charade when everyone knows that we all just want an excuse to have a couple of glasses of wine mid-week?)
My buddy Meshka and I usually take turns driving to these “meetings”, as we live fairly close together and are pretty close friends, too. It was her turn to drive, which meant that I didn’t have to think too hard about my alcohol consumption – other than to remember that I did have to go to work the next day! Neither of us really drink copious amounts, but we both are rather easily affected by alcohol. One glass of wine per evening is usually enough for us, but she who isn’t driving can have two if she wishes. (Yes, I’m living right on the ragged edge, aren’t I?)
One of the women at Unbook Club had had to be dropped off by her husband, as her own car was out of commission. At some point during the evening, she mentioned that she was going to have to call him to come and pick her up when she wanted to leave.
She looked at me expectantly.
“I could drive you home,” I continued. “You don’t live that far out of my way…”
My voice trailed off as I realized that I wasn’t driving tonight, that Meshka had driven.
“… or Meshka can take you, since she drove me tonight.”
She looked at me quizzically. Apparently I was offering her a ride home with someone else who didn’t even know I was doing this. Brilliant.
And this was after maybe half a glass.
Who knows what I might have suggested after a full glass? A helicopter, paid for by our host, perhaps?
(And ever the gracious gal, Meshka did indeed drive our carless friend home. And she just laughed at me. This is another reason she is my friend.)