I never had one gang of friends and have always regarded the mere concept as boring to say the least.
As it goes, I spent my early young age years segregating different circles of friends and acquantainces (yes, Google, you owe me) because it allowed me to show several aspects of my personality.
When I was ready to partyyyyy, I would call some in-the-know friends, if I was more in a movie-and-dinner kind of mood, I would text other friends. If I wanted to have serious talks about religion or politics, I’d know who to call, if I wanted a Sex and the City-like night, I would go out with my Martini girlfriends. That time is, apparently, over. Life is letting some people go on my behalf.
I recently celebrated this new trend in my social life with a very special unbirthday party. As an afterthought, Lewis Carroll would have been very proud indeed of the unlikely group that gathered last Saturday night.
In what was a magical, dreamlike situation, with people I know since I was 13 but never in the world thought I would ever be close friends with and people who shared a significant experience/journey with me, I enjoyed a pleasant dinner surrounded by special individuals with different stories and backgrounds.
Peculiarity alert: I adore old crime/mystery stories. One day I’ll surely get to write about my unconditional love for my fictional grandma, Angela Lansbury. Give me the nth rerun of any (and when I say any, I mean it) episode of “Murder, she wrote” and it makes my day. But that is another story that only explains why I am writing a post about a dinner among friends of friends.
If you share this oddity or, at the very least, if you’ve ever seen an Agatha Christie novel film adaptation, you’ll know the sensation those mystery stories evoke. I’m referring to polite conversation striking up between strangers. Talking for the sake of it, immersed in a dandy-like, retrò atmosphere. The ideal setting of most of my nights out. It’s because I love those settings, that give out a familiar feeling, that I appreciated the dinner so much. Yeah, the food, the excellent red wine and the quality of the topics played their part.
But it’s not just that. I think I know why I felt so happy when I took breaks to think, just observing other people interact (another thing my old lady self loves to do). We’re all in our mid-to-late twenties and despite all the paranoia this age brings, I felt a vibrant power. All I could see were brilliant people on the verge of breaking through in life. This is indeed the other side of the story, the age we are now is so beautiful because, as uncertain and fear-filled as it undoubtedly is, you can spend your modest income on three bottles of red wine without having to worry. In other words, just enjoying the good conversation flowing.
And here’s to another windy and rainy Sunday. Bloody Sunday. That came and went. And to another start of the week.