All names in this post are changed to protect the old and innocent.
She felt bad that she kept having to leave me alone at the table. First it was to go get water. And then it was to go order ice cream.
No, she wasn’t extremely hungry or thirsty. She was trying to subdue her tastebuds that were on fire at the moment.
Samantha and I met up for dinner at a place that has take-out chicken sandwiches. She assured me that the tofu sandwiches (for this vegetarian) were also delicious. You can choose the level of spiciness of your sandwich and I ordered mine “medium” while Sam decided to go for “hot.” She said she ate there before and ordered medium but that she felt like it wasn’t spicy enough.
Well, folks, we’ve learned that there is a big difference between “medium” and “hot” at this place. While I was scarfing down my sandwich, she could barely eat hers.
“Kristin, what’s wrong with me? I’m in pain!” she said.
It’s one of those scenes that you want to be laughing at, but it actually didn’t come across as funny to me. I felt bad because there was nothing I could do to help her. (And she clearly was not in the position to be laughing).
“Do you want some of my sandwich?” I offered.
Sam said it was too late. Her mouth was already burning. She went back for more water at the self-serve station and left a little later again to order vanilla ice cream in hopes that the cold cream would off-set the burning sensation in her mouth.
“Is this what it’s like to get old?” she said while half laughing. Or, was it I who said that to try to lighten her mood?
Either way, maybe this is what getting old is like. Most of my friends and I are now 30, or about to approach 30.
I have one friend, Brandy, who just got back surgery last week. Yes, back surgery! And, just like me she is only 30 years old! And, I have another friend, Maggie, who is about to get a colonoscopy because she has been having unresolved gastrointestinal problems.
Maybe this is the 30 that no one talks or writes (or posts on social media) about.
Except that I have been constantly writing and reminding you all about my year-long running injury!
We hear stories or see Facebook posts about Judy from high school’s new baby boy, or Agatha and her husband’s new million-dollar house or Angie’s elaborate wedding in the Bahamas.
We don’t hear the stories about the surgeries, doctor visits or that time your friend Sam could barely eat her dinner because she ordered it too spicy.
So, let’s be real. (I guess) this is 30.