Good friends.

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Good friends insist that you stay the night in their cozy Brooklyn brownstone instead of going back to your sterile corporate apartment after drinking 100 bottles of wine and pouring your heart out over existential crisis #872.

Good friends sneak out in the morning while you’re still sleeping and return with a new toothbrush and warm chocolate croissants for you to nibble in borrowed pjs while watching Inside the Actors Studio.

Good friends have girlfriends who will get down on their hands and knees on a dirty restaurant floor  to look for your lost lip gloss because “it’s a great color on you!” (good friends ARE those girlfriends!)

Good friends don’t laugh when “This Modern Love” comes on the restaurant stereo and you start silently crying into your wine glass.

Good friends put you in a cab and call 10 minutes later to make sure you made it home okay.

Good friends say they want to hang out the next day and don’t mind when “hanging out” turns into slobbering and snotting all over their Italian cashmere sweater. 

Good friends walk you out in their socks and show infinite patience when good-bye turns into a half-hour conversation by the elevator (“nope we’re good, thanks, we’ll take the next one”).

I have such good friends.

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One response to “Good friends.

  1. Pingback: Forcing myself to get over it (or– Random cool stuff in NYC). « the navigatrix

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