Irony

So you know when you accidentally make plans to meet up with three different girls at the same place on the same night? Well that happened to me last week.

I wish this story was as interesting and funny as that opening sentence would suggest. It's not. It's anticlimactic. Expect an abrupt, unsatisfying ending. I'll leave room at the bottom for you to imagine something exciting happening in a car.

I'm now in Meschers, my dad's home town in France where I spend the bulk of my time when I'm here. The names have been changed to protect the innocent, to unnecessarily complicate the story for the purpose of my own personal entertainment, and of course, to establish a hierarchy among those involved.

Girl 1: friend. Girl 2: friend. Girl 3: ex summer fling. All three: strangers to one another. I had seen 2 the two nights before so I told her that I had made plans with other friends that I hadn't seen yet. I really wanted to see 1 because she's funny as hell and I hadn't seen her in three years. So we got together, got a bottle of vodka, and set up shop at this viewpoint (more on that later) on a cliff that overlooks the ocean. We laughed and talked of memories past. 3, you ask? She conveniently wasn't available until late. When the time came, I made a last minute decision to invite her to join us for a drink. There's a logical explanation for this. First, I was impartial on seeing her and didn't feel like she needed any special attention. And second, these two girls had unknowingly crossed paths six years ago so I had a good conversation starter. In the summer of 2003 (coincidentally, the year I met 2, 1, and 3), 2 worked coat check at a discotheque (I love that word) that 1 frequented (and that one). I only knew this because I too was a patron. Anyway, the three of us talked for an hour or so while stargazing then called it a night.














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