It had been six month since we last saw each other, but it felt like years.
We dined with someone who, for how little time we spent together, and how few times we saw each other, still considered to be a good friend.
We had so much in common, but mainly our lifestyle; he traveled often, and everywhere. We always had something to talk about, simply because so much had happened between the times we last met.
He had a way of telling an impressive story without being ostentatious; of making his 55-foot yacht and beachfront home in Sardinia seem modest.
“You pay to dock your boat based on size,” he explained, “but it’s Italy – they never check.”
“So what does this have to do with you naming your boat ’45-Incredible?’”
“Because when they come by to collect for the docking fee I tell them it’s 45 feet. They do a double take.
‘45? huh? Incredible!’”
“If you own a house on the water in Portocervo, you’re extremely wealthy,” he confessed. “I live next to all those extremely wealthy people, in a really small house I bought a long time ago, when you didn’t have to be extremely wealthy to live there.”
By anyone’s standards – except maybe his extraordinary wealthy neighbor, he was still extremely wealthy. I liked him more for it, not in the least because of his wealth, but because he seemed so normal in spite of it.
We drank too much (which isn’t hard to do with my tolerance), ate poorly, and did everything but smoke a cigarette with him afterwards. I loved every minute, knowing full well that I’d be up tomorrow (which is now today) at 5 am with a headache – I never sleep when I drink.
We talked for hours about nothing in particular, and would have stayed longer had the restaurant not closed.
And that’s precisely what made the night so enjoyable; that nothing particular had to happen.
We love particular. Without particular we get bored. You see signs of it every day; people compulsively changing the channel, refreshing email and checking their iPhones. So it seems to me to be a good measurement of a relationship – when nothing in particular needs to happen.
Or a movie, a story, or dare I say, a blog.