Good Times

I had lunch today with my friend Cathy. I, seriously, wish we would have kept count of how many times we’ve had lunch together through the years. As we were standing in line at the Chinese restaurant I told her that I think I’ve had lunch with her more times than I’ve had lunch with my husband. She agreed.
We’ve worked together for 17 years at WTHI, and for three or four years prior to that at WTWO. We’ve probably had lunch a minimum of twice a week, darn near every week.

She went to Florida with me, several years ago, when I sang at a Garth Brooks Fan Club meeting. At least that’s what I thought I was singing at. Come to find out, Garth Brooks doesn’t have an “official” fan club. So, I’m not sure what it was that I sang at…but Cathy was there, and so were a hundred or so other people. And hey, we had a fun trip to Florida.

She also went with me to California when I felt God calling me to witness to our boss at the corporate offices. That was an interesting trip. I don’t think I’ve ever told that story here on the blog. That might be one for a later date. I was referring to my boss in California when I wrote this devotion.

Let’s see, what else have we done together? Together we wound up in the Hillary Clinton motorcade when Hilary came to Terre Haute. Cathy and I were right there with her, first face to face, and then in the motorcade. We thoroughly enjoyed waving to the people as we passed by. I’m so thankful that Cathy taught me how to give a parade wave.

She went with me on the strangest sales call I’ve ever made. Some lady who owns a business asked me to meet with her at her house. I wasn’t going to go alone, so I took Cathy for protection. What was I thinking? She only stands 5’3”. And she doesn’t carry a gun. The sales call that I felt was going to be strange, got even more strange as the lady asked us to listen to a radio ad that she had made. She wanted us to listen to see if we could use the same audio for her TV ad. That’s not the strange part. The strange part was the only place she had a player to play it on was in her bedroom. So, we went to her bedroom. Now, in hindsight I realize just how ridiculous that was. I don’t think I’d make that same decision again, but for whatever reason we said, “okay”.

We walked into her bedroom and her bed was up on a platform with 1970’s shag carpet all around it. She played the radio ad for us, and it was THE WORST AD I’VE EVER HEARD. The lady, who was my potential client, was standing face to face with me, talking to me, and my dear friend Cathy was standing behind her busting a gut laughing, but obviously she couldn’t make any noise or the client would know she was laughing at her. You know like those times when you’re in church and the person sitting next to you does something funny, and you’re trying not to laugh because church is quiet and to laugh would be very distracting, but it’s taking every muscle in your body to hold it back? That’s what Cathy was doing behind this gal’s back.

So, I’m looking face to face at my client, with Cathy standing in the background about to burst at the seams with laughter, and I HAD TO KEEP A STRAIGHT FACE. I thought, “if we make it out of this place without getting hurt, I’m gonna hurt her.”

When we finally made it back out to my car, we sat down, backed out of the driveway, and then exploded with laughter. I’ll never forget Cathy saying, “it is calls like that that KEEP me in this business.”

One time, before she got married, she had a boyfriend and they came over for New Year’s Eve. She hadn’t been dating him for very long, so I didn’t know much about him. After eating, we were traveling back to our house. As we passed the cemetery, I decided to tell them about the legend of the Gypsy. Those of you who live in this area know the legend that I’m talking about. How they say that because this one particular gypsy was buried in this cemetery, Marshall will never have a destructive tornado. (don’t worry Christian friends, I put my hope in God, not the gypsy). So anyway, I shared the “legend”, and afterward I guess I thought that the story needed a theme song, so I started singing “Gypsies, tramps and thieves” over and over again. When we got to our house Cathy pulled me aside and said, “would you STOP! HE IS A GYPSY.” That was his heritage. LOLOLOLOL. He never came back.

Picture me laughing.

Sorry Cathy, he wasn’t right for you anyway.

Ahhh…I’m not sure what made me take this trip down memory lane. Oh yeah, it was thinking about how many times we’ve had lunch together.

Good times.