Low maintenance friends.
Those are the ones you should fill your lives with.
You know. The ones who can come over and you feel zero pressure to entertain.
A while back, Heather and I had a couple over who ARE NOT low maintenance.
Which is great because we are the people that turn high maintenance people into low maintenance people.
We love the challenge.
The morning was filled with conversation, laughing, food, Good Morning America, jokes, coffee, Robin Roberts, ping pong, Rod Stewart, omelets, tabasco sauce, chasing kids, and iPhone game challenges.
It was the most low maintenance morning ever.
Our sofa situation in our living room is great. Lots of room. Seating for like 10.
But for some reason papers were scattered all over the couch and we ended up all sitting on the love seat and one part of the couch.
I was on the love seat with, let’s call her “Jill”, and Heather was on the sofa across the room with, let’s call him “Jack”.
Nothing awkward. We are all cool like that.
Heather and Jack left the room to go get something in the kitchen and Jill and I were watching Good Morning America and chatting about our move to Chicago or something.
She had somehow gotten into the position of her back to the armrest and her feet in front of her towards the middle of the love seat.
I was sitting normally. Her hands were placed behind her head and she looked pretty cozy.
You know. Like this…
And yes. While on vacation I wear things like this. Green with buck silhouettes on them.
Our conversation had ended a few minutes prior and after about 3 minutes of silence she suddenly spoke these words…
Do you think I’m sexy?
Um…Did she just say that?
No way. But yes she did. Don’t look at her. Just ignore it. And no. She is not sexy at all. I mean I’m sure her husband thinks so, but not at all. Almost the opposite of sexy. HOLY CRAP. What do I do? What do I say? Dear Lord.
Do you think I’m sexy?
@$#!#@$! She just asked me again. SHE JUST ASKED ME AGAIN. Relax. Think. OK. I got it. Thank her for asking but politely decline to comment. Holy crap. Holy crap.
I could still hear Heather and “Jack” in the other room. I was floored at the confidence in which she asked. I had NEVER felt any sort of sexual tension between her and I. Like none. If there was a word to describe the complete opposite of sexual tension, that would be it. Like nada. Zero. None. Yet she asked and was waiting for an answer. I could still see her in my peripheral vision, arms behind her head, legs towards me, just staring, waiting, waiting, staring.
My heart was pounding…thoughts racing…fear growing…friendship ending…
I was slowly turning my head towards her and some words were beginning to escape my lips when we made eye contact and she said…
Or no. Wait. Was it Have I Told You Lately? Yea. That’s it. Do You Think I’m Sexy was probably his number one song in the US.
What? Huh? Wait. What? Oh. Yea. That’s Right. Wow. But. Do you still want to know if I’m sexy?
What I had forgotten was that about 3 minutes prior to “Jill” hitting on me I had asked her something while watching Good Morning America. I asked her if she knew anything Rod Stewart had ever sung. I hadn’t. It just took her 3 minutes to answer. And 3 minutes for me to forget that I had asked her.
And you know the funny thing?
I’m the one who’s probably the complete opposite of sexy…brilliant…
And low maintenance…