Kinetic Kindred KABOOM

If you’d happened by my office and you surreptitiously glanced at my calendar (which would make you quite the busybody, if you ask me) you would have noticed the following entry for Saturday, the 22nd:

Margarete-KABOOM. (noon)

Margarete and I do not see each other very often. We used to find the time to connect via hilarious, laugh-out-loud emails…but even those have dwindled down to a pathetic trickle. Between work, family, book publishing, book signing, promotions and fundraising events, there’s not a lot of free time left over. Then, there’s MY schedule…and, well…there you have it.

Realizing it's sink or swim, we’ve opted for quality over quantity…usually resulting in a mind-numbing seven to eight hour marathon of catching up. Somehow, we’ve created our very own tradition of hitting Sephora during each and every trip…with a little shopping and a healthy dose of liquor thrown in for good measure.

The irony is that neither of us really enjoys shopping much…so it’s much more about eating a fabulous meal and becoming sufficiently liquored-up before hitting the stores, thereby making everything (and everyone) hilariously entertaining.

Our drinks were tropical (I know you’re shocked) and our food was from the sea (ditto). We always eat at Legal Seafood. Our waiter, Mike, knew he’d be working hard for da money when we began complaining that we couldn’t find the fancy mixed drinks before we’d even finished seating ourselves in our booth. Then, there’s the inevitable query as to what our waiter recommends…and why. I was leaning towards something called “Silky Tie”, picked purely for the name. I do not remember what it contained, but it was yummy. Margarete was leaning towards something with a name I can’t recall, but I believe it was something like “Dark Thunder”, or “Black Vortex Congestive Piranha”…and Mike’s trying to explain its unique properties:

Mike: “Well. It has this cranberry puree in it, so it’s thicker than most drinks.”

We made a disparaging face at this, so he tried another tact:

Mike: “Okaaay….it has more of a full-mouthed quality to it.”

Kathryn: “Where’s your thesaurus, Mike? We need to work on your adjectives.”

Margarete: “I’ll take it.”

We ordered our food as well. Mike seemed surprised when I exclaimed “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” after we’d spent a good ten minutes sullenly staring at our empty glasses a quarter of the way through our meal.

Fortified with alcohol and summarily caught up on the basics of each other’s lives, we hit the ground running….or maybe simply walking with the slightest bit of a lean.

Margarete needed a small gift for someone at work, so we entered Bath & Body Works. The stench of pine, combined with peppermint, mixed with something called “Cotton Breeze” caused us to stagger, cough and take a step backwards before plowing ahead…albeit holding our breath, which made conversation all but impossible. It was a short stop.

We then headed down to Sephora and upon entering, we emitted the “Sephora Sigh”. We were golden.

A good hour later, we headed over to Lord & Taylor. As we entered, Margarete glanced at the cosmetics counter and she said “We should really sit down and have a makeover one of these days…”, as the young girl behind the counter turned in our direction and applied what had to be her fifth coat of sheeny-shiny, over-the-top, way-outside any human being’s natural lip line… bright red gloss. Adding to her unique style was the peacock blue eye shadow and the neon pink blush.

“Hm. Maybe not,” mumbles Margarete…as I snicker and snort and weave my way through to the shoe department. Once there, we discussed the woes of the wide foot (me) and the merits of a really comfortable pair of stiletto boots (her).

I expressed a need for new jeans…and while dreamily imagining myself in a perfectly cut pair of skinny jeans, I repeat Clinton’s mantra about trying on many, many pairs before finding the ideal match…and suddenly, we’re out of steam…and we’re done.

We roared home in Margaret’s new convertible, singing “Let’s See How Far We’ve Come” and smelling once again like someone had thrown up a tropical buffet.

As always, it was a blast.