“So what happened on your date with Raymundo?” A friend asks on the other end of the receiver. Her voice giddy, expectant even, as she awaits the details.
“Well, I met him at Altus and was a little early–”
“Ooh, girl, you’re never early!” She interrupts eagerly.
“I know. But I’m doing things differently now, remember?” I say, hoping my words summon a memory of the conversation we had only days ago.
“Oh yeah…right!” She responds, a bit distracted.
“So he walked in and was just as cute–”
“What babe? Yeah, I know. Hahaha!” My friend suddenly erupts in laughter and I’m pretty certain I didn’t crack a joke, even unintentionally as I often do. “Hello? Hello?” I repeat, wondering if her phone line has crossed with a neighbors.
“Sorry, girl, my husband was telling me about his coworker….” She says nonchalantly, returning to the conversation…barely.
“So we had drinks and—”
“Stop it babe! Haha! No, I don’t think I want to do that tomorrow. Well, maybe we can reschedule?”
“Helloooooooo!” I yell at the receiver.
“No, I don’t want to eat that,” she continues, speaking to her husband as if our conversation had finished, or had never even begun.
But I still had a story to tell, dammit!
That’s when I got it. As she continued joking with her husband, while I remained on the line like a spinster pendeja, I realized this is what had become of our friendship. She only half listens as her main focus is her husband and her children. As for him, well, interrupting me is no biggie. She swore to love and to hold him in sickness and in health till death do they part.
That definitely trumps chatting with a girlfriend.
This is why, when conversing with my married friends, I don’t expect anything more than broken conversations, filled with interruptions by husbands and hollering babies and coworkers and train doors closing and traffic cops (some actually call me while they are driving!). Unbeknown to me, this is what happens when women get married. No more time for girl talk or after work cocktails, even if it’s only once a month. I just hope it doesn’t happen to me, particularly the choppy conversations.
If it does, I may have to hang up on myself, just like I did to my friend.
And as I put my iPhone away, I wondered, “Where did my friend go?” She got married, that’s where she went. She looked deep into his eyes as he uttered, “To love and to hold and to interrupt you when you’re on the phone with your friends, till death do us part.”
And to that she said, “I do.”