When I was in high school, I had six really close girlfriends. Looking back, it’s too bad we didn’t have a name, like the Pink Ladies or something. But we weren’t a club or a clique; we were just a group of friends.

Since graduation, we’ve only been together – all of us – a few times. But about once a year, a few of us usually manage to make a date and stick to it. (We make more plans than that, but somehow those plans don’t always work out.) It never fails that we laugh until our eyes water and our heads hurt, and we leave the night promising to do it more often.

I hope we stick to our promise this time.

On Saturday night four of us met for a drink. Then Smitty hit us with what would turn out to be great news: one of her co-workers is in an 80s cover band, and they were playing at a bar downtown. She wanted to know if we thought it would be fun to go see their show.

I’d like to say we all jumped on the idea immediately. Because we’re wild and crazy and fun and spontaneous like that. That’s what I’d like to say.

But honestly, we had to debate the many pros and cons pretty thoroughly before deciding that three of us would venture downtown to the Young & Pretty District, where parking isn’t free and sensible shoes are scarce.

[For the record, I was actually the one in our group wearing cute shoes this time. I’m not saying you need to mark that on any calendar, but I probably should.]

After more debate – take our purses in or not, wear our coats or not, try the cider beer or not, get a table or sit at the bar – we finally settled in (at the bar) just in time for the show.

And oh, what a show it was!

We laughed so very hard! I seriously had a headache the next morning – not from the half a cider beer I choked down because Smitty was kind enough to buy it, but because I laughed that hard!

The band was good. And they played fun songs – Bon Jovi, Paula Abdul, Rick Springfield, whoever sings Play That Funky Music. But their costumes? And the dancing? And the people watching? And the engaged guy who had the nerve to ask Mindy to dance? And the lead singer who thought I would be a good sport when he grabbed my scarf and tried to make me dance?

Oh, my. It was a good time. I’ve laughed recently, I have. But not that hard and not that long. I seriously laughed for almost two hours straight. Smitty laughed so hard (at me and the lead singer/scarf incident) that she fell off her chair!

Old (longevity, not age, of course) friends are so fun: those women who know the real me and love me anyway, the girls who grew up beside me in our small town, the people who can always make me laugh.

Who are the people who can always make you laugh?


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