One can never have too many friends, or that ‘s what I used to think.
I was lucky enough to spend the weekend in New York City with my great husband and dear friends. We took full advantage of our time there. We made plans to have dinner, see an intimate venue magic show at the Waldorf Astoria, spend the next day at the Chelsea High Line, Chelsea Market, have dinner yet again at a great restaurant and see the Broadway show, An American in Paris.
Sounds great, right? And it was, but logistics had to be implemented every few hours.
These particular friends are great for lots of reasons, not the least of which is that down time and private time is always built into our joint ventures. So, we are glad to have cell phones and texting at our fingertips to make plans to meet up after we go our separate ways.
Just to make sure everyone was on board, I sent a group text to each of our friends with our meet up place and time in a few hours after breakfast. Weirdly, I kept getting a text from the gal asking me things like:
“Who is this?”
“Am I supposed to be somewhere?”
“I don’t know, what this is about?”
Since her guy was the typical texter, I thought, “well, maybe she doesn’t have my cell phone number in her phone.”
So I’m texting her back with polite messages like:
“it ‘s me, Cathy. ”
“We already made plans, I’m just giving you the time.”
“Just meet us in the hotel lobby.”
But I’m thinking, “geez what the hell is wrong with her? Obviously, it’s me and where and when we are meeting should make perfect sense to her.”
I keep reading these messages from her and it hits me. Her name is Terri. I have three friends in my phone named Terri. Terri K, Terri N and Terry R.
Terri K. was not the one I was in New York with. Terri K was at least two hours away in Pennsylvania losing her mind wondering why I was insisting she get her ass to New York City in half an hour.
Terry R was wondering why her boyfriend’s cell phone was texting incessantly with a group text message from someone neither of them knew.
I still think I could always use more friends, but Terry R’s boyfriend said I’m not allowed to add any more people named Terri or Terry to my catalogue.
When Terri K saw my Facebook pics from the NYC trip, she was disappointed she didn’t make it on time, but hey, I gave her plenty of notice.
For more of my humor go here
Cathy is the author of Showering with Nana: Confessions of a Serial Caregiver