The Storm Out!


I caught up with my best gal pals recently to drink a long lunch and celebrate the fact that the latest of our gaggle had turned 40.

We are an eclectic  bunch, small and perfectly formed in the sense that we all bring something different to the table. Be it a razor sharp wit, a kind soul, sense and sensibility and just plain devil may care. Like all solid groups of friends, it is this mix that makes this kinship stretch to over 20 years now.

We have seen each other through births, deaths and marriages. And the demise of one. We have travelled overseas together, laughed together, cried like banshees but mainly, we have evolved to the point that we can move forward into the next 20 years knowing that no matter what like throws at you, love is all you need. The love of your friends.

So over lunch, the subject of the storm out came up.

Storm out? Yeah, you know the one. Where someone has had a gut full and exits in dramatic fashion. In this case, that someone…

….was me!

The year was 2007.

We had been catching up for dinner for no particular reason. I had a toddler and a baby at home and so relished the chance to escape my mundane. 

I was also very, very sleep deprived.

The conversation turned to an event that happened years earlier,  with the outcome being split 3-1. I was the 1.

Lively debate occurred over some steaming mu-shu until I channeled my inner Sally Spectra and chucked a tantrum. In a restaurant. Like all grown ups do.

“Well, you are all a pack of assholes!” I declared before very dramatically throwing some cash down onto the table, giving them all the evil eye, one after the other, then storming out the door and into the night.

I walked a few metres before stopping. I waited for one of them to come and get me.

Little did I know that they sat inside that warm restaurant and gleefully discovered that I had left way too much money, and subsequently ordered another bottle of wine.

I caught a taxi home. 

As morning broke, I evaluated the situation and concluded that I had behaved badly and deserved to be ignored. But I still get delight in telling them that they were all “dropped” for 12 hours.

Truth is, you could not get a better group of friends. Especially because they tolerate Academy Award worthy performances.

Tell me about your friends?
Ever done a dramatic storm out?