Last night I caught up with an old friend. Seven years ago, as a result of “life’s upheavals”, marital break up for her, move interstate for me; we shared a home together. The house was in a cul de sac in a very family oriented suburb. Don’t ask what two thirty something professional women and a dog were doing living there, we definitely didn’t fit the stereo type. However we firmly believe to this day, that we kept the neighbors entertained with what we fondly termed our “verandah sessions”.
It was a colonial style, two storey, four bedroom family home, flanked by verandahs all round. The back balcony was long and wide, although located reasonably close to 3 neighbour’s properties. We could often hear them, so we figured they could hear us. We had great views across the local reserve that was a few streets away as the house was situated on top of a hill. I used to love sitting out there looking at the stars.
Anyway getting back to our verandah sessions, we would sit out there smoking cigarettes drinking wine and talking. Our conversations were erudite and enlightening and usually revolved around men and sex. The more wine we consumed the more enlightening and amusing (at least to us) our conversations became and the more we got into the nitty gritty of men and sex.
We never heard the neighbours during our verandah sessions, which we eventually realised was because they were so engrossed in listening and learning from our conversations that they kept quite. We were our own unique version of “Sex and the Suburbs” I was Carrie with a hint of Miranda and she was definitely Samantha. There was no Charlotte!
Anyway I caught up with this friend last night. The plan was that we would catch a movie and then go onto some trendy new cafe for a bite to eat and maybe a bit of talent spotting. I arrived at her place late, (par for the course). After admiring my retail therapy efforts from that afternoon; a gorgeous pair of Sergio Rossi shoes, that aren’t two inches too high and half a size too small, (really they’re not!) and a very bright fuchsia pink wallet that my friend assures me I can carry off (besides it matches the shoes), we ended up opening a bottle of wine (nice sparkling red D’Arenburg Peppermint Paddock,) and then another bottle of wine (Torbreck Shiraz yumm), sitting on her back deck laughing and talking about men and sex. It was just like old times (minus the cigarettes).
She finally fessed up the identity of her clandestine shag 4 years ago. I had known all about it at the time, but no matter how hard I tried, I could never get her to disclose his identity. This drove me crazy! Although I will never tell (girlfriend’s code of conduct), it cracked me up when I finally found out who it was. Now I know why she never disclosed!!
It made me realise that there is no therapy like sharing a laugh with a friend.
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