My friendship with Yvette is cool.
Yvette and I met in college something like 8 years ago (?) and have always had a fun friendship based primarily on rituals and traditions (which often revolve around food). It's not like we set out to create rituals or start traditions from the get go, but unknowingly, we have created a relationship that is constant and secure and that makes me happy.
One of the things we have always done is go on our "dates". Back in the day, we started going out to eat. We'd pick fancy places and pig out so that we could then calculate how many hours we would have to spend at the gym to burn off the aforementioned meal. Over the years though, we have gotten better. We still go to fancy places and pig out, but instead of eating EVERYTHING (apetizers, entrees, desserts, coffee) we share 2 appetizers and a dessert.
Anyway, Yvette didn't start driving until about 4 months ago. Until about 4 months ago, I had to go pick up her pedestrian ass every time we went out. She would get in my car and like a good co-pilot, she would be the DJ. More often than not though, she would pick a totally cheesy teeny bopper song and we'd each start singing and dancing (within what was possible inside of a car) choreography and all. Of course, what happened in the car, stayed in the car so nobody knew we did this. But we did. Baby one more time. Genie in a bottle. Ex-girlfriend. It's gonna' be me. They all were a part of our repertoire.
But after I left and we "grew up", along with our food selections, that kinda changed. We started talking on the way to whatever restaurant we had chosen. Maybe that was my fault though for monopolizing my iPod, or maybe she lost her good co-pilot skills, or maybe when in her car I am a crappy co-pilot, the fact of the matter is that we just talked.
Last night we went to Marocha for our date. We ate, we had some sangria, we hung out with other people, sang, danced and I guess that put us in a different frame of mind. There was a nice feeling in the air (nice enough that I didn't even die of a heart attack when G-sus spilled sangria all over my Gucci shoes). I think we were refreshingly happy. After dinner, Yvette drove me home (while G-sus followed us because we had been drinking) and for once I decided to be the good co-pilot I know I can be: I took the iPOd and pressed play.
Let Me Blow Your Mind.
We sang along, we did our little dance. she even let me smoke a cigarrette in her car.
When we got to my house, I kissed her good bye, I walked over to G-sus' car and kissed him good bye too.
Then he said, "did you guys have fun? it looked like you girls were having a party in that car!"
"we did. and we should do that again some time."