The quiet one, the not-so-quiet one, the finely-scented one, and I had a luncheon 'date' friday.They are three women of whom I have had the pain and pleasure of working with for the last 5 years or so. That I could 'tag along' meant alot to me, that my presence is accepted, for all that we've been through. Good times, bad times, very bad times, there to help each other out, no hierarchy here, just four people trying to make it at a job that sometimes seems more ridiculous by the day.
The finely-scented one, whose usual attire of jeans and a grey t-shirt, no make-up and a no-nonsense attitude, is leaving the group, going to school for a better job, she's only comes in when we are short-handed. A single mother, her life isn't easy, but she doesn't give up.
The not-so-quiet one is always full of chatter, keeping a positive spin on her personal life (not without its own struggles) and is always the one to enliven the proceedings. She is the MC, the leader of the pack, but still realistic enough to see that our jobs are always on the line.
The quiet one, the mother of a toddler, with another baby on the way, is charming in a mysterious way, perhaps because she is so quiet, but when she speaks the mystery deepens, and her placid demeanor is occasionally broken by flashes of the fire that dwells within her.
And then there is me. Old enough to be paternal, but not really comfortable in that role. I try to keep my mouth shut at these gatherings, I can learn far more from them than they can learn from me. Because we love each other, but are not lovers, that state of acceptance that exists when we are in shared company is easy to attain. If only all of my relations with other people were so congenial.
The luncheon ended. We went back to work, or home, and back to the daily grind. Life is good.