Two Ships That Passed In The Night, More or Less, OR Some More Semaphore

So here I am, brand-spankin'-newly-hired woman that I am, achin' to party hearty and ROCK THE HOUSE, if you know what I mean. So my bud and all-around pal HeyJules says we need to meet up and get down to some serious brew (Starbucks) to celebrate the occasion...AND she offers to buy! Given the opportunity, and being the Wild Woman we all know I am, I accept.

"Get ready, Town," I say. "Prepare to be PAINTED RED!!!"

Seriously, folks. I was doing the Arsenio Hall pumping fist action punctuated with the "OOO, OOO, OOO!!!" thing and ALL. I was READY. I was SET. The WORLD would know HeyJules and I were THERE!

We agreed to meet around 7-ish. I was dressed to the nines in my best Mom-jeans and a sweatshirt. I was EXCITED. I was using way too many CAPITAL LETTERS.

I got there a little before 7 and ordered my drink from the hunk (read "bookish, bespectacled student") behind the bar, then found a seat in the crowd, fighting off the hordes (a woman's Bible study group of twelve) long enough to save a chair for HeyJules. I sat down and waited for her to come in.

And I waited.

And I waited.

And I waited.

And then for fun, I waited some more.

And when I got tired of waiting, I hung out.

And for kicks, I threw a yawn in here and there. (Gimme a break, I'm OLD.)

About forty minutes into ALL THE WAITING I got a brilliant idea.

"Self," says I, "Mayhap HeyJules has run into a severe case of the trots and cannot make it more than ten feet from the bathroom at any given time. OR, she may have been trampled by that herd of canines she has. She may even be lying on her deck in an unconscious state after trying to hoist a 50-lb. bag of bird seed in order to feed the aviary population of the midwestern world. Perhaps I should take out my trusty cell phone and (gasp!) GIVE HER A CALL!"

And so I did.

But she wasn't home. Or she was out like a light (see above). Or taking a bath, or doing a myriad of other more important things. I left a pathetic little message bemoaning my lonely state to make her feel guilty for standing me up, and hung up the phone.

Of course, being the pessimist I tend to be, I automatically pictured her in one of the less optimistic poses above. I decided to drive over to her house to check things out.

On the way over there my cell phone rang. It was HeyJules, alive and well, if a bit confused. Well, more than NORMALLY confused, that is.

"How on earth did we do THAT??" she asks.

"Do WHAT??" I counter, feeling a bit confused myself.

"Arrange to meet at Starbucks and then MISS EACH OTHER WHEN WE'VE BOTH BEEN WAITING THERE FOR THE BETTER PART OF AN HOUR!"

It happened like this: I got there, looked around for her, ordered my drink, sat in one of the comfy chairs along the short wall that runs the length of the center of the store. She arrived shortly afterward, but entered from a different door. She looked around, but couldn't see me ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WALL.

She sat.

I sat.

All God's chillun' sat. And waited. For the person who was already there. For over FORTY MINUTES.

We are nothing if not patient. And there might actually be the better part of a brain between the two of us, if you look hard enough.

Or not.

Anyway, we've determined from this little escapade that HeyJules needs to enter the twentieth century (give or take a century) and get a cell phone. It could come in useful in times such as these.

And if she doesn't, I'm buying her a set of semaphore flags. Really.

So maybe these two ships won't have to pass in the night again.