|By Quasimime Courtesy of Flickr|
Nothing like a ladies’ night to break up the week, especially with old friends.Three girls and a dashing gentleman who shall remain ageless drank sangria, and indulged in too many platters of food on the table.
It’s been months or longer since the four of us dished, and the silly conversation included work, family, friends, dogs, and the big M. The word that no woman over 35 wants to mention was the topic of discussion. Let’s just call it “Man & Pause.”
For Jess, 46, Noni, 51, and our guy pal Morti, the trials and tribulations of middle age are no secret. For once, I was the youngest of the bunch, but I could commiserate. Morti had it the worst, listening to all of us whine about hot and cold flashes, (there is such a thing as a cold flash), headaches, memory loss, and insomnia. Men have their own issues with mid-life crises, but Morti chewed his papas fritas in utter disbelief, while thanking heaven for the Y chromosome. Suddenly that back pain seemed insignificant.
“Let’s get another pitcher of booze,” Morti exclaimed.
“Here, you can have mine,” Noni said, passing her glass. The girls agreed that alcohol, no matter how fruity and tasty, wouldn’t alleviate the symptoms. So we declined.
Comparing notes with other females on the wrong side of forty brought a little comfort. Jess made a practical suggestion to solve our midlife problems. She referred to it in code however.
“Do you need a visit with Peggy?” she asked. “I wonder if that would help?”
After last week’s post, This Grass is Greener, about the wonder drug controversy, it was only fitting that she would enter the discussion.
“It certainly can’t hurt,” I replied. “But I get crazy enough after a glass of red wine and a benadryl. I better stick with that.”
Jess counter-offered, “But you know you can get it delivered in Manhattan?” I was shocked, “No, I didn’t.”
Morti chimed in, “The guy comes with the suitcase and you pick what you want.”
I responded in disbelief, “Really–it’s that simple?” Morti reiterated, “Honey, you can get anything delivered in Manhattan.” Touché.
The absurd conversation and giggles came to an end, and we sipped the last of the sangria. After a hug and kiss exchange, we said our goodbyes. We will meet again for another night of food, booze, and a man & pause session. But I couldn’t help but ask the question, “Will Peggy be there too?”