March 2, 2002

Gush

A visitor graces the halls of my house and the attention of my three cats. She's a pleasure, really, to have staying in my house.

Not because she's a good friend -- even though she is. Not because she enjoys the company of the cats -- even though she does. Not because she brought everything along with her including a towel -- even though she did.

But because she went out to get some odd mix between lunch and dinner sometime around 4:30 p.m. And didn't even eat the food that I went out to buy just so she'd be somewhat comfortable (and because I needed to get food anyway). Fresh strawberries. Florida O.J., although I am reminded that she ate one poppy-seeded bagel, ripped by hand, bite by mercilous bite.

And there's beer in the house. Not that cheap, urine-like liquid that masquerades as beer such as Budweiser and Miller High Life, but Guiness (won in a bet with a co-worker who thought that Virginia Tech could outplay the Florida State Seminoles in the Gator Bowl) and Warsteiner; quality brewed beverages.

But even though the above appears to be complaining, the will to remain self-sufficient is commendable.

Oddly enough, after sucking down just less than three beers at a local drinking and pool-playing establishment, her girlfriend called. And even though nothing other than words of this girlfriend had started flowing as easily as the alcohol had into my guest's system, it didn't stop once they were talking on the phone.

Gush.

No, it wasn't too nausiating -- even though I let on that it was. But it was nice to hear a conversation devoid of real substance, and yet a silent culmination of everything that mattered, simultaneously.

- Rich