A year or two ago I realized I had a facebook friend who I didn’t know at all.
We’ll call her Virginia.
I had no idea who friended who or when it even happened.
Well, Virginia is very funny.
And she was kind of pissing me off.
Who the hell is this Virginia chick?
I think she might be funnier than me.
I contemplated unfriending her.
I did a little facebook stalking.
And that was when I discovered she had shared a post from my blog.
And talked about how she thought I was funny.
I guess this one is a keeper.
Over the course of the past year, we have actually become friends.
An occasional comment on a post or status update eventually turned into a message.
And then another.
Then Virginia’s friend Melissa jumped into the mix.
One day back in December the three of us had a particularly enjoyable string of messages going back and forth.
And ultimately, I put it out there:
Okay. When the fuck are we getting together?
A week or two later, we actually picked a date.
And that is how I ended up going into NYC yesterday.
To meet my internet friends.
I had a blind date.
When I told my mom I was going into the city, her response was:
Don’t leave your purse unzipped.
My husband’s input was:
When you get out of Grand Central, don’t look up at the buildings.
Just keep your head down.
Thanks for the vote of confidence…
Number 3, who has some serious anxiety issues had this to add:
How are you getting there?
Are you flying?
No. I’m taking the train.
ARE YOU GOING TO MAKE IT???
I’m going to make it.
ARE YOU GOING TO DIE???
I’m not going to die.
As long as I get out of here soon enough, anyway.
WHAT IF THE TRAIN RUNS OUT OF GAS???
Trains don’t use gas.
WELL WHAT IF IT RUNS OUT OF COAL???
Oh my God.
I’m going to be fine.
And no more Thomas for you…
So when I finally made it onto the train, I was very thankful to be there.
I had a great time with my new friends.
The night didn’t end exactly how I had envisioned it though.
My new friends dropped me off at Grand Central.
None of those warnings from my mom, my husband and my son included anything about watching where I stepped.
That might have been helpful.
Because after I hugged my new friends goodbye and happily walked down the hallway of Grand Central,
I stepped in a pile of shit.
Someone took a shit in the middle of the hallway.
And I stepped in it.
Those boots and that floor and a big pile of shit are not the ideal combination.
But don’t believe everything you hear about New Yorkers being cold and heartless.
As I sat there on the floor in a pile of shit struggling to stand up, a very nice woman came to my rescue.
She helped me to my feet.
Go wash your hands dear. You stepped in some…
My big night in the city had a pretty awesome beginning.
But the ending?
It was pretty shitty.
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