Ann
Ipock
Humorist,
author, speaker
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Georgetown
Times
Girlfriends are
like diamonds; you can never have too many
By Ann Ipock
May 03, 2006
I’ve been thinking lately how wonderful it is that a woman can strike
up a conversation with another woman, a total stranger even, at any given
time, place, or circumstance and become instant friends.
Take tonight for example. Hubby Russell and I were sitting in a local
restaurant when two women came inside and were seated next to us. I overheard
some chatter about their night out on the town and saw no husbands or
children — no wonder they were downright giddy!
When I caught their eye, I smiled, and they smiled back. Eventually, we
introduced ourselves — in such small quarters, it seemed like the
natural thing to do. Their names were Eileen and Stella. It’s such
a small world: Come to find out they read my column.
Eileen used to own a coffee shop where I visited. We all cracked up when
Stella made reference to the “Seinfeld” episode where Elaine
— who had too much to drink at a banquet — screams “Stella!”
over and over. See how easily we women bond? Girrrrrlfriend!
But the funniest thing happened. Just as the waiter brought dessert, Stella
was making a huge gesturing motion, and her hand collided with the waiter’s
arm. Have you ever seen a cannoli flying through the air? What followed
was a gasp, then silence, apologies, and laughter, to the point where
Eileen couldn’t catch her breath and Stella was dabbing her running
mascara. Almost as funny: the waiter was still holding the plate.
After the waiter left, Stella politely took her napkin to pick up the
squished cream and pastry. Russell tried to stop her, citing “The
3-second rule.” Was he going to eat it?
I think not!
We laughed harder and by now, other diners were doing the same. Eileen
made Stella promise not to use her hands any more, saying, “You
can talk, but DO NOT use your hands!” After the waiter brought the
cannoli replacement, Stella told me she was so sorry and embarrassed.
I told her I’ve done worse things and not to worry about it. (Just
last week I laid out my debit card, didn’t realize it hadn’t
been scanned, then signed the receipt and left. A phone call from the
restaurant straightened it out.)
After dinner, Russell paid the bill and went out the door. I stayed behind
chatting and having fun, wondering what might happen next. Maybe that’s
why men don’t meet new friends like we women do? They’re too
impatient and not nosy enough. When I turned to leave I couldn’t
find my cell phone. Just then he walked in saying, “Looking for
something?” Argh! But, wait! Another funny: The squished, napkin-wrapped
cannoli was still on their table! I mentioned that to them. Eileen said
she was going to take it home, preserve it and send it to Martha you-know-who
to examine it and come up with the recipe to share with us.
More girlfriend fun ensued after that. Next we stopped at the Piggly Wiggly
for some groceries and our own dessert (that being a steaming cup of cappuccino
from the deli). In there, I met a group of women on a Girls’ Weekend
Getaway; nine third-grade teachers from Rock Hill. Paulette, the “ring
leader” — there’s always one — was who I met first.
She was in the dairy section talking about baking a quiche.
I swear, not five minutes earlier, I had told Hubby I wanted to bake a
quiche with smoked Gouda cheese. He said he wouldn’t eat it. “Because
of the cheese?” I said. “No, because real men don’t
eat quiche.” I wanted to say, “Where do you see a REAL MAN?”
He’s always saying, “Real men don’t use straws.”
One day I’m going to ask him exactly WHAT real men do.
But back to Paulette — the cute little blonde with the most Southern
accent I’ve ever heard, except for Tennessee folks. I pushed my
buggy right up beside her and said, “I’m sorry to interrupt,
but did I hear you say quiche?” “Yes,” she said, “I’m
making one at the condo.” Her friends said her quiche is legendary,
so I asked for the recipe. She quickly rattled off the ingredients (which
I forgot in less then 10 seconds). Hearing their excitement and laughter
reminded me of my book and the story inside it, Girls’ Weekend Getaway.
As we were leaving, I saw them flipping through my book. “Is this
really yours?” they asked. I answered “yes,” but couldn’t
stop thinking about that awesome-sounding recipe. I couldn’t get
it out of my mind, but I also couldn’t get it in my mind (poor memory
and all). Well, no one had a pen to write it down. So I thought of a pneumonic
device, using the letters. After all, school teachers use this method
to teach all the time. CMOTS: Cheese, mushrooms, spring onions, tomatoes
and — uh oh, what was the “S” for? Oh, and Paulette
emphasized you HAVE to use Cracker Barrel Vermont Country Cheddar. When
she realized she needed another pack, I asked her to pick up one for me.
(She did.) Now we’re all best friends. Men don’t get it —
but it’s the sharing we enjoy: Whether’s it’s recipes,
laughter or good memories. Truly, girlfriends are like diamonds! You can
never have too many!