I remember I had to visit my friend, B., after the close of work on a certain evening. I had already called her earlier to find out where I would be meeting her—at her home or her shop—and she asked me to meet her at the shop. I haven’t checked on her in a while, and I felt a need to see her and talk to her. My work on that day was stressful, and at the end of work, I didn’t want to go anymore, but I already promised to go check on her, and so I did.
It took about 30 minutes to get to her shop via public transportation, and I recall that it rained on my way there. I was partly drenched when I was alighting from a cab to board another cab. My shoes were soaked while I was walking to her shop, and it was a relief to put them off when I arrived at her shop. She welcomed me to her shop and offered me a cold bottle of Coke, which I accepted as I sat on a couch to rest while the standing fan blew cold air in my direction.
Her shop was shaped like a perfect square, and the walls were painted immaculate white. A white shelf was fixed to one wall, with a large mirror on the right and a couch to the left, with clothed mannequins in between. She sells thrift store clothes, you see. It didn't take time for us to both get comfortable on the couch and start talking. She started to tell me about her relationship with a guy named Sam.
“I shouldn’t have to be the one putting in all the work!”, B. told me. I rubbed my hand on her left thigh to console her.
“I feel you, babe”, I said.
“Do you know that he messed up my birthday? He told me that he made all these plans—an ice cream treat, a swim at the pool, and a birthday dinner date—just for us on my birthday, and I believed it. I actually looked forward to it. Do you know what happened on the morning of my birthday?”, she asked and looked at me, and I could only encourage her with my gaze and silence.
“He didn’t wish me a happy birthday! No calls or texts! I had to call him around noon when I heard nothing from him, and he couldn’t even come up with a decent excuse to placate me”.
I was annoyed now. “Weren’t you pissed off?”, I asked her.
“Pissed? I was livid, and I was going through PMS at the same time. I was pissed as hell! He said something came up at work and said a half-hearted happy birthday”.
“Damn, B. He doesn’t deserve you, you know?”, I asked.
“I know”, B. answered.
“So why do you keep going back to him? You keep showing up for this guy, spending your time, your nights, and your weekends with him, and he doesn’t even bat an eyelid at you when you’re sick! You are too kind and beautiful to be wasted on shitheads like him. He keeps making excuses when it is time for him to show up for you”.
“I know, right? And I am tired”.
“You aren’t tired yet, B., because the moment he calls, you go running. I wish you just had a bit more self-respect for yourself. He doesn’t value you or the relationship you both claim to have”.
“Okay babes. I will try”, she assured.
“Alright. Whenever he calls you to come around, call me immediately after so I can talk you out of it, okay? I won’t have you tread the path of being a booty call for a man who doesn’t care about you, okay?”
“Okay. Thank you, babes”, she said, drawing me in for a hug.
“I love you, girl”, I told her.
“Me too”, she breathed.
“Trust me, a man who values and loves you will find you in due time”, I assured her. She only nodded in response, and I took it as though she had accepted what I said.
“Okay. Okay. Okay. That is too much hugging for a whole week!”, I said, pushing her away.
“You are not serious”, she said, laughing.
Laughingly, I asked her that we should close up her shop, head out for ice cream, and give her details on a new mystery man I had just met. We started to close the shop and headed to Domino's Pizza and Ice Cream after. It was a good night.