Comedy Of Errors

I arrived at Vintage Bar on 9th Avenue to meet my sister Siobhan just like we planned. I was right on time. I did a scan of the place for my sister and did not see her. I nabbed us a table, and settled in. The skinny gorgeous waitress with huge boobs came over and asked if I wanted to order. I said I was waiting for someone, so, could I wait to order until she showed up? Skinny Boobs said fine. I was a tiny bit scared of my waitress, and she was a teensy bit snotty. Whatevs. So I settled in. There were two guys next to me – one with a goombah Jersey accent, the other with a deep Southern drawl – and they were loosening their ties as they walked in, obviously young ad execs or something along those lines, talking about work and strategies, and also dirty martinis and interns and the joys thereof. I kept glancing out the door for my sister and the two guys kept thinking I was staring at them. Finally, I let them off the hook and took out Fortune of War and started reading. Vintage is known for its martinis (there are 7 pages of martini drinks on the menu … you can get an Oreo Cookie Dough martini if you want it) – so obviously the joint starts HOPPIN’. But I can read anywhere, anytime, and so I did. About 20 minutes in, I caved and ordered a glass of wine from Skinny Boobs, who gave me a wine recommendation that turned out to be stellar. I didn’t worry at first. It’s normal to be late in the city. I didn’t think much about 20 minutes but after that, I started to wonder. Where was Siobhan? I reached in my purse for my cell phone only to find, horribly, that I had left it at home. If you ever NEED a cell phone, it’s for when you’re trying to meet up with someone, and I had forgotten it. It was now a good 45 minutes after our meeting time, and this was totally unlike Siobhan. I didn’t know what to do. I finally realized (duh) that I had my blackberry on me … and it’s also a phone. But … duh as well … I do not know my sister’s cell # off the top of my head, because everything is on speed dial now and so … my parents number I have memorized but that’s only because it’s the same number I’ve had since I was, what, 11 years old? A nuclear holocaust couldn’t erase that number from my head. But I didn’t know Siobhan’s number. The martini decibels were now at their peak. I caved. I needed to contact her, and had no other way to do so. I called my parents. “Hello?” said my mother. I launched right into it, regardless of whatever my parents might have been up to in that moment, shouting above the martini noise and the jocular post-work conversation beside me in 2 thick regional US accents, “Hi! I know this sounds crazy – but what is Siobhan’s cell number?” And bless my mother (although this shouldn’t be a surprise, if you read my blog) she said immediately, “Hang on a second. Let me get it.” Within 10 seconds, she read it out to me. I tried to explain, shouting above the Oreo Cookie Dough martini racket, “Siobhan’s 40 minutes late and I don’t have my cell phone and I also don’t have Siobhan’s phone number!” Sheila? Stop talking. You sound like a moron. So. I call Siobhan, from the blackberry – shouting into it, “HI! I’M HERE AT VINTAGE! I’M CALLING FROM MY BLACKBERRY! I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT MY BLACKBERRY NUMBER IS THOUGH. SO I HOPE YOU CAN SEE IT ON YOUR PHONE. BUT I’M HERE. SO I HOPE YOU’RE OKAY!” Sheila? Stop talking. Then I realized that I could find out my blackberry number (I never use it as a phone) – and so I wrote it down and called back, shouting, “OKAY, SO HERE’S MY BLACK BERRY NUMBER –” and as I started to read it out I saw Siobhan herself emerge from the back of the bar, stalking towards the front, looking around her like an insane person. She had obviously just gotten my message and had been sitting in the bar the entire time. I hadn’t seen her though, in my original sweep, I swear! I shouted up at her, “SIOBHAN!” We then hugged and laughed and Siobhan went back to the back of the bar to grab, you know, all her stuff – to join me up front. She had left me numerous messages on my cell phone which I, naturally, had not gotten, because it was sitting at home on my desk … so we could have gone the entire night, sitting 30 feet away from each other, total missed connections, if I hadn’t remembered that I could use my blackberry. Sheila. Why else does one have a blackberry? But let’s disregard that. So Siobhan came up and joined me and we were laughing about how ridiculous the whole thing was, both of us practically crying about the fact that we were sitting so near to one another, and yet so far … and at some point Snotty Skinny Boobs came over to our table (she had also been Siobhan’s waitress) and she said, gesturing at the two of us, now finally together, “Okay, this? Is hysterical.” She totally got the entire situation, the missed connections part of it, the comedy of errors – and then Siobhan and I said, in unison, “And we’re sisters, too!” And that sealed our fate. Turns out, Skinny Boobs has two sisters, and they all live on the same floor in the same apartment building, and so Skinny Boobs will get a call from one of her sisters at 8:30 in the morning, saying, ‘Hi. I bought a dress yesterday. I need you to come over right now and tell me if I look cute in it.” Skinny Boobs goes next door, and her sister answers the door wearing the dress in question. Skinny Boobs looks at her sister in the dress. She then silently leads her sister back to her apartment, opens her closet, and shows her that she had bought the very same dress on the very same day. She told us that entire story. We totally fell in love with her. You know. Sisters. Anyone who has sisters understands. She absolutely loved us – and the snottiness I felt (oh, and that Siobhan felt, too) was probably just being harassed by having too many tables and too many Cookies ‘n Creme martinis to make. Oh – and off of their huge wine list, Siobhan and I separately had both ordered the same glass of wine. Skinny Boobs loved that, too. She swooped by us on her way to another table and stopped just long enough to say, “You know what is also hysterical? You ordered the same drink. Brilliant. This is brilliant!”