Pearl

Pearl and I have been friends for years. Pearl is who she is, and we love her for it. Pearl being a nick-name for a friend of ours who is quite gay and has some of the best stereotype genes. If somebody dies, just tell Pearl. She's the best kitchen manager you'll ever find. Wanna throw a pot luck? Again, it's Pearl to help manage everything. Wanna know good dish on somebody at her church? She'll tell ya.

She's also been known as a bit of . . . a . . . frugal person. The kind to order "soup and a coke" then say, long before the rest of the group are finished, "I've got to go, I can't wait on the waitress. Can you pay my check for me? Thanks" and dash off. Not bothering to toss you a five to pay for the check.

She's . . . well, she's a pearl.

He is also one of the first friends I made when I moved here. He was part of the group that I moved into at my fave-eating-place. He's had a key to my apartment. We've been out to eat. I've done my best to get him complimentary fare at my varied employers so he could impress who-ever.

So. Why. You. Gonna. Do. Me. Like. That? I run into him at the festival yesterday, and go to hug him and he sticks out his hand to shake mine. I push on, introducing him to MyFella and Jamie, and he says in response "I think you should shop there" - pointing at the booth where we are which has a variety of costumes on display. And then? He's gone. Completely walked off. Didn't introduce us to whoever the young hottie with him was, didn't say goodbye, just disappeared as fast as he could.

So how come I'm thrilled to see you, but you treated me like an old neighbor from a poor subdivision?

Sigh. It's not like I'm surprised he's shallow and wants to be with whoever his pretty friend is. I just didn't realize he'd turn his back on me so quick. We'll see what I'll remember the next time I get a coupon for a free meal. That'll teach him!