Thursday, June 23, 2011

390. LET ME SEE YOUR KATI ROLL


Now I want to hide. I don’t like the residual emptiness these marathon dates leave me feeling. Good thing I have Tate to keep me company.

We’re having wine and catching up. “So I started working with a life coach,” Tate says. “A wha?” I ask, and this is not the wine talking. “Life coach,” Tate repeats with a smile as big as Texas (where Tate is from).  “What does she do?” I ask. “She is helping me work on professional goals. I get homework each work from her,” Tate says. “You are paying her to give you work assignments?” I ask skeptically. “Nooooo,” Tate says and laughs. “Coming out of college I had the job of a life time. And now I have a good job, but I really need to focus on where I want to go. I need to get back on track,” Tate explains.

Hhhmm. I have never thought of Tate as “off track”. Nor have I had a job of a life time. I have always just done what was expected of me. So I don’t know what I would do other than aspire to be a writer.  A passion that I never seem to give enough energy to. Which has me wondering, why I waste so much time on a number of activities when I should be taking writing classes and working on my craft that I claim matters so much to me. “Do you think she could help me with focusing on writing?” I ask. “Definitely. She is good. Fair, firm and totally tough love,” Tate reassures. “I have her business card,” Tate, the ultimate networker says, and pulls it out of her bag. A bag so big that I could live in it!

Tate shoots me a sly smile. “What?” I ask. “Let me see your kati roll, your kati roll…” Tate sings. We are now well into our wine, adjusting the lyrics to the song by 69 Boyz, Tootsie Roll. We sit on a couch and sing, and do the “dip, baby, dip” motions. “Let’s get kati rolls,” Tate says. How tempting. “I can’t…” I begin. Tate can read my mind; the kati roll place is 50 blocks from where we are and 150 blocks from my apartment. “I’ll pay for the cab fare,” Tate offers.

Tempting. But I don’t want to be that leech of a friend that everyone complains about. “Okay, then I’ll get the kati rolls,” I counter. “Deal!” Tate says. And off to late noshing we go.

Thank GOD I always have my friends when my giddy up needs some go.

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