|Thanks to the Two Writing Teachers for hosting the #sol17 writing challenge!|
I walked down the sidewalk with a purpose. After all, I was already technically late.
I zoomed past the frozen yogurt shop with its lime green chairs and array of flavors. Past the cute clothing boutique with floral dresses that practically beckoned me. Finally, I stopped, ducking into the doorway of a dimly-lit wine bar.
In the corner, I spied Liz and Dawn. I slid into the booth, glad to be somewhere I knew I would leave feeling energized, not drained. And then, we were three.
The door opened, and Gail bustled in, sleeping baby in tow. And then, we were four. The few. The proud. The faithful book club attendees.
The dark wood of the table contrasted with the shiny pages of the menu that the server plunked down in front of me. I flipped and pondered. What appetizer would best complement the heavy conversation that was sure to accompany the dark Southern Lit novel we had read this month (Joe by Larry Brown)? Would the server be able to recommend a wine that matched the preferences of the protagonist in the book, one with a bouquet of tobacco and banana moon pies that had a gritty finish?
I eyed him. The perfunctory way with which he took our orders made me decide not to risk the joke.
With the matter of food and libations taken care of, we leaned forward on our elbows and began to chat. Our conversation started like it always did: casual talk. We vented, we shared, we sympathized.
Our food arrived. We dug in, and our discussion turned towards the book. One thing I love about our book club is that we really do talk about the book, which I've learned is a rarity in some circles. Gail's eyes flashed as she described her anger at the book's ending. Dawn hypothesized about a character's motivation, and Liz shared her insights that, as usual, made me think deeper about the story. Our conversation vacillated from heavy analysis to light observations, from thoughtful wonderings to a hilarious conversation about the actor who best represented the protagonist in our mind's eyes (in case you were wondering, we decided on a combination between Dog the Bounty Hunter and Mickey Rooney post-face lift).
Sometimes, I just listened, happy to soak in the thoughtful commentary of my friends and relish the simple pleasure of a bite to eat and a book to discuss.
As with anything that's fun, time flew, and before I knew it, I had to leave. I waved goodbye to my friends and stepped back out onto the sidewalk and walked past the adorable boutique, past the frozen yogurt shop and to my car. As I started the engine, I realized that I was already looking forward to next month's meeting.