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Opening the drawer and rummaging for the nearly tasteless and scent-free avocado massage oil, I laughed, thinking of when we had met, eyeing each other across the expanse of Deb's tony Pacific Heights apartment. The usual yuplets were at Deb's usual Friday night drinks party, an assemblage of cocky young MBA dropouts pining for VC, naturally occurring vacuums masquerading as Marina Habitués, and the odd academic, tortoise shelled or herringboned, colleagues of Deb's doctoral candidate room mate. I scanned this well-scrubbed mass of po-mo detritus and alighted upon you. It was the first time I'd felt that steely gaze, and I remember it now. It brought me back to excelsior and tenth:Deb handed me a perfect Manhattan with Old Overholt straight rye, and I asked who's the refuscent dame on the couch?"Ah, that's Yvette, a genuine Californian." No dice. How'd a sweetie like that get woven into this chaff?" Don't be such a misanthrope. You got thirty more years before you can actually pull. Peeps would give her the time off. Suddenly she nodded andsaid, "Yes! We're only young once! Let's hit the beach and have a blast!" Get in girl! Let's go see Amy and Donna. This punch buggy needs a carloadto head south!"* * * * *Robyn tossed her head in the breeze. She had her bare feet propped up onthe car door as they cruised down the highway with the top down. She andAmy were in back soaking up the sun while Cathy drove and Donna navigated.She smiled over at Amy and pointed out the road sign that said they onlyhad 20 more miles to their destination.Amy grinned back and said, "Beaches here we come!"Robyn nodded. She was totally content in the moment. Excited to be onvacation with her friends, anticipating meeting up with Megan who was alsogoing to Florida for the break. Everything seemed to be falling into placefor her friends. Cathy was engaged and going to grad school. Amy and Scottwere getting along like cheese and crackers and Amy really seemed to becoming out of her.
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