I’m A Wheel (I Will)

“Gosh, I don’t remember when last time I saw you was,” she said. “I don’t either,” I replied, “But I’m pretty sure we were making out.”

I met my long-time friend Jen for dinner last night. We went to high school together back in the Eighties (ha ha). Actually, I crashed her meal with a mutual friend of our who I kissed sometime around my fifteenth birthday. She’s a lawyer now (the mutual friend), and has a big, sparkly diamond ring on her left hand, but other than that, looks pretty much the same. Funny thing was that, while she said my face looks familiar but that should “would pass [me] on the street,” and doesn’t remember kissing me all that well (neither do I, and I wasn’t much of a kisser in those days anyhow), she did remember a note I’d sent her (I was big into notes, surprise, surprise). She recounted it thusly: “You must’ve known my sister or something ‘cuz you wrote me this note that said something like, ‘I’m only a sophomore but if you’re as charming and beautiful as your sister, I’m really looking forward to meeting you.'”

Jen and I looked at each other and laughed. Jen said, “Sounds like you to me.” And I was all like, “Some things never change.” Which I’m not pointing out to pat myself on the back. I guess I think being charming or sweet or whatever is a good thing so long as it’s genuine, which it was then and is now. But I think it can come off otherwise — smarmy, disgenuine, flirtatious, cocky — pretty easily. Which is a bad thing.

Anyway, it was fun. And it’s kinda’ funny how people come back around. And just how quickly fifteen years can slip away. And how little can change in that time. All of a sudden, you’re a grown up, you have a real job, you live in New York City, and you have less hair. But you’re still genuine, and you still mean it. And that’s a good thing.

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