Thursday, February 26, 2015

It's So Hard to Be Humble...But I'm Trying

I didn't promise that I wouldn't take a picture of THIS. 

I just want to state for the record what a really exceptional friend I am. 

Hey. Quit laughing. All of you. I mean it. 

So here's two - count 'em - TWO examples of my friendship that go above and beyond the definition of "exceptional friend" - ness. Want to hear all about them? Of course you do. I'll tell y'all everything if you'll just quit guffawing. 


A couple weeks ago, John and I and Greg and Terese went out to dinner. We had an adult beverage or two and a tasty meal, during which I had fun sketching on the paper tablecloth with the crayons provided by the restaurant. Terese surveyed my work and everyone made creative suggestions. I enjoyed the picture of Terese that I had drawn so much that I took a cell phone picture of it. We all laughed, and then we all headed home. Boom. Evening over. 

So several days later, I uploaded the pictures from my phone onto my computer and was struck yet again by the results of my artistic efforts. Which prompted this word for word conversation with a different friend via Gmail chat, copied and pasted here:

Me: Hey there. I need your honest opinion.
Jenny: OK
Me: So I’m sending you a portrait of Terese. I drew it on a paper tablecloth last night. Should she be offended? She thought it was brilliant last night but then she had had a lemon drop martini. It’s my interpretation of her as a ballerina.
[pause while email sent, received, and reviewed]
Jenny: Umm….I don’t know. On one hand you depicted her as very…hardy? hale? full of vigor? Did she re-state her opinion today?
Me: See, that’s where you come in. Does she really need to re-view this priceless piece of art?
Jenny: What are you considering doing with said masterpiece?
Me: I’m not sure. I have this feeling that it’s too valuable to languish in my photos folder. I thought it captured her vibrancy. Pink hair and all. Also her inherent goodness, seeing as she’s walking on water in the picture. Notice that’s she’s holding a sweet potato fry and a crayon. That’s profound. Also, I consider this a multi media piece since I incorporated a grease spot by transforming it into a chicken leg. 
Jenny: Ah. That explains it. I was wondering why she was sprouting poultry parts. 
Me: Work with me here, girl.
Jenny: You did emphasize the thighs you gave her.
Me: Yes…..yes… I did.
Jenny: You may want to give her another chance to review before a public showing.
Me: Um.....I can agree with that.....I guess. 

What, you ask, is so extraordinary about this exchange? What proves my superior friendship skills?

Guys. I didn't post the picture. I could have put an example of one of my masterful portraitures here on Reasonably Well for everyone across the ENTIRE PLANET to see but I didn't.

No, I didn't. I, being the judicial person that I am, decided that in the unlikely event that Terese should not appreciate the of her portrait, I would keep it tucked away. Unappreciated. Without even putting her in the position of insinuating that her friend Julia's artistic abilities stink.

Impressed yet? No? Well. Here's


A few days ago, Terese asked me to drive her to and from a lengthy dental appointment. She needed me to drive her since she was instructed to take a medication before we left to relax and partially sedate her. I, of course, agreed readily thinking that given the type of drug and dosage prescribed, that this could provide an experience with the potential to be incredibly entertaining.

Here's where my good-buddy halo began to glow above my brow: when Terese came ripping down the church choir loft's steps after Mass Sunday and made me promise not to take any pictures or video of her reaction to the drug, I actually said yes.

Yes, I did. Well, I did try to cross my fingers behind my back but she saw me. Drat.

Can you believe my super-duper friendship skills? Having seen this woman under the effect of one third of an adult beverage (a rather potent one labeled as a Disgruntled Elf at Christmas time, but that's a whole other story) I was already mentally rubbing my hands in glee at the opportunity to witness something spectacular. But no. Being the noble individual that I am, promised while standing in the narthex of our church, that I would not get photographic or audio visual evidence of her under the effects. And in doing so, deprived myself of a photographers dream shoot.

What an unselfish person, right? Am I right?

When I picked her up at her house, she had already taken the first dose of her happy pills, and handed me the printed sheet pictured above. I laughed as she carefully placed the sheet in my hands. Woo hoo! I thought as I read. Even though I can't get out my camera, it looks like we're in for a real corker of an afternoon! I was grinning in happy anticipation as I poured her into the car and we headed for the dentist.

Well. What a shame that Terese turned out to be disgustingly boring while medicated. Not one goofy comment. No giggling. No drooling or snoring. Just slow and tired. How disappointing.

After the procedure, I delivered her back home and tucked her into her recliner and waited hopefully thinking that maybe....just maybe there could be at least a few late-appearing drug induced incidents to be seen. Instead she sipped her Starbucks caramel macchiato without dribbling one drop and informed me that she was ready to doze off for awhile.

Pffft. That was absolutely no fun. No fun AT ALL. What nerve.

Sigh. Even though cheated royally out of real entertainment, I carried on as best I could. But then we exceptional friends are patient like that. And we exceptional friends are humble and modest too.

Oh, yes. Definitely humble. Most certainly modest.

Terese? Don't forget to spell my name correctly when you have my "Friendship Extraordinaire" trophy engraved. Oh, and it doesn't have to be really huge or anything. Yeah. The three footer should be just fine.

1 comment:

mcspires said...
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