When I lived in Boston, Lavonne was my best friend. Lavonne is from Minnesota and true to her Norwegian roots, she was beautiful with her pink, white skin; piercing, blue eyes; wispy white, blonde hair and tall. We both worked as nannies and met every day. The one thing we had in common was that we both loved eating. Every evening, we'd cycle the twenty minutes to a home-made ice-cream parlour and eat a pint bucket of ice-cream each. On Sundays, we'd head into Boston town and eat our way through Faneuil Hall gorging ourselves on triple chocolate fudge brownies with walnuts, rocky road ice-cream with strawberries (we deluded ourselves that at least the strawberries were almost calorie-free), custard-filled doughnuts and hot dogs. We weren't capable of resisting anything. If we weren't eating, we were 'dieting' but it was futile in the face of so much temptation.
With Lavonne, I went to my first night club, Dirty Dick's. A black man asked me to dance and I nearly passed out with the excitement. His name was Randy. Lavonne met up with a guy who told her he was Julian Lennon's cousin - he did look like him.
On Paddy's Day, Lavonne cooked me dinner. Pasta with pesto sauce and spinach salad followed by pistachio ice cream, all slugged down with kiwi margaritas. Entirely green and entirely delicious.
One day, about eight weeks into our friendship, Lavonne confessed she had a dilemma. "There's something that's really been bothering me," she said, "and I was wondering if maybe you could help me. You know, maybe we could talk it through and see if we can work it out."
"Sure," I said, "What is it?"
Lavonne took a deep breath. "Well, it's just that..." and she stopped. She smiled sympathetically at me. I braced myself.
"What?" I said.
"Well..."
"For God's sake, Lavonne, what could be so terrible?"
Lavonne let out a big sigh and looking deep into my eyes she said, "The thing is, Geraldine, I've never had a short friend before."
I waited.
"Is that it?" I said.
"Well, yeah," said Lavonne, clearly annoyed.
I don't remember how we resolved the 'dilemma' but the friendship survived.
With Lavonne, I went to my first night club, Dirty Dick's. A black man asked me to dance and I nearly passed out with the excitement. His name was Randy. Lavonne met up with a guy who told her he was Julian Lennon's cousin - he did look like him.
On Paddy's Day, Lavonne cooked me dinner. Pasta with pesto sauce and spinach salad followed by pistachio ice cream, all slugged down with kiwi margaritas. Entirely green and entirely delicious.
One day, about eight weeks into our friendship, Lavonne confessed she had a dilemma. "There's something that's really been bothering me," she said, "and I was wondering if maybe you could help me. You know, maybe we could talk it through and see if we can work it out."
"Sure," I said, "What is it?"
Lavonne took a deep breath. "Well, it's just that..." and she stopped. She smiled sympathetically at me. I braced myself.
"What?" I said.
"Well..."
"For God's sake, Lavonne, what could be so terrible?"
Lavonne let out a big sigh and looking deep into my eyes she said, "The thing is, Geraldine, I've never had a short friend before."
I waited.
"Is that it?" I said.
"Well, yeah," said Lavonne, clearly annoyed.
I don't remember how we resolved the 'dilemma' but the friendship survived.
2 comments:
Randy in Dirty Dicks!! OMG thats too funny!! Great story!
Randy in Dirty Dicks was a perfect gentleman😊
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