Sweetie Pie

It's never normal when Sweetie Pie stops by for a visit. I wrote at length of the strange and mysterious occurrence of her first visit, which seemed more like some sort of odd daytime sting operation. She did it again this week. She stopped by (which we both agree happens far too infrequently in our culture) while I was down the road having coffee with another friend and Mr. M was at home exercising. Surprised to hear the doorbell ring, Mr. M figured that it was me at the door, as I do have a habit of getting locked out of the house. However, he wanted to be sure that it was, in fact, me at the door, as he was not prepared for any guests. So he peeked out the window. He saw a girl slightly taller than I, with her head down, picking at her nails as is a particular habit of mine. Unsure of the identity of the girl on the porch, he moved aside the window covering and peeked again. This time, he saw who it was, and it wasn't me. He made himself somewhat presentable, and told Sweetie Pie that I was out getting coffee.

Friends are strange things, profound mysteries. I think of Persnicketta, with whom I share a deep geographical challenge. I cannot count the number of times when Persnicketta and I agree to meet at a park or a coffee shop and we go to the park and to the coffee shop only to find that we have gone to different parks and coffee shops. This challenge is particular to me and Persnicketta. I cannot explain the difficulty, or give a reason for it. It isn't unlike trying to argue for or against the existence of Bigfoot. Will I ever know? Will anyone ever know?