The other night I met an old friend for Happy Hour. Linda and I met way back in 1983, when we both attended the University of Washington MBA program. Aside from school we had nothing in common—I was married with three young daughters, she was divorced with no kids. I’m a secular Jew and she’s a devout Christian. Yet we became friends. We also started a tradition neither of us has forgotten. At the end of each quarter, after a round of grueling finals and research papers, we met at the Dilettante, a chocolate café several miles from campus. We’d order coffee and pick out four large, handmade chocolates. The grinning guy behind the counter supplied us with plates, a serrated knife and a glass of hot water. Why the knife and water, you ask? We used the knife to slice each chocolate in half, four mouthfuls of heaven for each of us. After each cutting we dipped the knife into the water to clean it. Between groaning with pleasure, chit-chatting and laughing nonstop (aided by the copious amounts of coffee we drank), we had such fun!
We graduated and pursued our careers. In the early 90s Linda married. My kids turned into rebellious teenagers. My husband I had our hands full, plus I worked at a demanding job as a financial analyst. As you can imagine, everything else slid by the wayside. Linda’s life was equally busy wither her new husband and step kids, and her job. Sadly, we lost track of each other. Then through the internet she found me. We decided to meet—for Happy Hour at a restaurant halfway between us.
Seeing Linda after all these years and catching up on each others’ lives was wonderful. Things have changed. My daughters have grown into lovely, productive women with busy lives of their own. I no longer work at a bank—I write full-time. Linda’s step kids are grown. She’s still at her job and has earned her CPA and several other distinguished degrees to complement that MBA.
One thing hasn’t changed, though—our mutual enjoyment of life. We laughed just as we used to, and of course thoroughly enjoyed our Happy Hour snacks. We’ll definitely get together again. We may be twenty-five years older (yikes!!), but inside we’re still the same fun-loving young women we once were.
Wishing you a reunion with an old friend,