Category Archives: Pickup Lines

Today is my turn to blog for The Month of Friendship. For those of you who are new to my search, let me give you the Twitter-ized version:

After two years of waiting for a local BFF to emerge in my new hometown of Chicago, I’ve decided to go out there and find her.

On Tuesday, I was reminded of exactly why I’ve been forcing myself to ask out potential friends, despite how desperate it can sometimes feel. I was at my favorite boutique, just a block away from my apartment, looking for a dress to wear to an upcoming rehearsal dinner. Well, that and I’ve been trying to befriend the manager since I moved here.

We’ve become friendly enough in the time that I’ve been frequenting her store. The weekend I went wedding dress shopping, I showed her a picture of my potential gown for an “objective” opinion. She’s told me about planning her sister’s bridal shower. She knows what clothes work best on my body and can perhaps get me a discount on said outfits. She’d most certainly fill my fashionable BFF opening.

For a while, before I threw caution to the wind and started asking every potential BFF to dinner, I was too embarrassed to invite her to hang out. What would I say? “Hello I have no friends! Will you take pity on me?” Uh, no thanks.

But now that I’ve been at this a while, I’ve gotten more comfortable in the art of the asking. Like anything, it gets exponentially easier with practice. And the breezier you are (Remember Monica on Richard’s answering machine? “I’m breezy!” I channel this often…) the less awkward the exchange. I promise!

So I went into the store in the middle of the day on Tuesday, and Manager and I were the only people there. After trying on a few dresses, I bought an adorable little black number.

“So do you work every Tuesday?” I asked her at the register.

“Yup.”

“I was wondering… I work from home on Mondays and Tuesdays, and it can get really quiet and isolating. Would you want to get lunch sometime? It’d be nice to get out of the house for a little.”

Manager was so excited. “I’d love to! I really would.” She went on to tell me that she always meets really great people at the store, but she feels like she has to wait for the other person to make the move. “Otherwise, you could be like ‘why’s the salesgirl asking me to lunch?’ It’s unprofessional.”

This had never occurred to me. She’s all 7-feet-tall and impossibly thin and pretty. The idea that maybe she wanted to be my friend too, that maybe something was holding her back never crossed my mind.

So we exchanged numbers and we’re going to have lunch. It could maybe even become a weekly-ish affair. I have a good feeling about this one.

The small-but-significant exchange was an important reminder of why, when we meet someone with BFF potential, we should just go for it. Everyone wants pals. We’re constantly worried that people will think we’re weird for making the first overture toward friendship, but more often than not the other person is flattered. Thrilled, even.

And there could be a million reasons why she hasn’t tried befriending you. Once Manager explained it to me, it made perfect sense that she’d have professional concerns about trying to befriend a customer. But I never would have thought of it on my own.

So this month, why not resolve to finally say something to the would-be friend you’ve been eyeing in yoga class/the grocery store/the office. What’s the worst that could happen? No, seriously, what?

Last week, I went to my first MeetUp Group. Meetup.com bills itself as “the world’s largest network of local groups.” Their mission, they say, is to “revitalize local community and help people around the world self-organize.” Basically, it’s a social network for groups that engage in just about every activity under the sun. Love doing needlepoint while watching Harry Potter? There’s probably a group for that.

On Thursday, I went to the inaugural meeting of the “Chicago Cooking Chicks” group. It was a presentation by Susan Goss, the chef at Chicago’s West Town Tavern. There were about 15-20 women there, mostly in their 20s and 30s. The majority of them were with a friend. Not me. I flew solo for the express purpose of meeting someone new. After standing awkwardly near the door, I introduced myself to the girl just a few feet away, also alone. (I know this was the obvious first step, but when I’m alone in a group of new people I get uncharacteristically shy.) Erica and I had been chatting for few minutes when two other girls, Lizzie and Jess, approached us. They’d come together but the whole point was to meet new people, they said, so they were determined to not spend the whole time talking only to each other.

When the presentation started, the four of us took the back row. I sat next to Jess, and we chatted throughout the presentation—mostly about the creepy mime who for some reason was the cooking studio mascot. One hour and zero food later (who puts on a cooking presentation from 6-8 and doesn’t actually serve the cooked food??), class was dismissed. Everyone gathered their bags and I tried to figure out what my next step should be. Do I just go up to Jess and say, “Can I have your number?” Would that totally freak her out? It seemed there was no natural way to take our casual banter to the next level.

Halfway to the door, I knew I’d kick myself if I came home without even attempting to befriend someone. I took a deep breath, turned around and walked up to Jess and Lizzie. “Um, I’m just going to give you guys my card because…” I didn’t really know how to finish the sentence. Because I’d love to be friends? Because I think you’re super-cool? Because I really really really want you to call me?

I didn’t even get to finish the sentence before Lizzie said “Oh, ok…” As in “Wow, that’s weird.” Oy. They must think I’m crazy.

But then, “We’re going to grab dinner and a drink, do you want to come?”

Uhhh yes please. So I said, “Sure, I’d love to.” And we went and ate Pad Thai. And had a great meal. And laughed a lot. And exchanged phone numbers.

It’s a fairly unremarkable story, I know. I introduced myself to someone, who was kind to me in turn. I have a friend who literally meets people while she’s crossing the street. But for me, it was big. Huge.

You never know. It might just be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Last night I went to see first-time novelist Kelly O’Connor McNees read from her new book The Lost Summer of Louisa May Alcott at Barnes and Noble. I’ve never actually been to one of these author events before, but I checked out the B&N website the other day because I thought readings might be a good place to pick up potential BFFs. (That’s right, I go trolling bookstores for women.) I was especially excited to see that McNees was reading because, first of all, Little Women is one of my favorite books so I get excited about any tangentially related novels (see: Geraldine Brooks’ March), and I’d actually just read a rave review of The Lost Summer on another blog so it was on my radar. Extra enthusiasm came when I saw that the 30-year-old author is from just outside Chicago, so perhaps she could be my friend (I’m in the market for a new-author BFF whose brain I can pick. Wait, that sounds gross.)

Thinking about Little Women from my new friendcentric perspective, it occurred to me that the four sisters are pretty much each other’s only BFFs. We hardly hear about any other female friends throughout the entire story. Louisa, like her literary counterpart Jo March, was the second of four girls (the youngest of whom was named May. Amy in the book. Really, Louisa? I love you but I’d think you could handle something more creative than swapping the first two letters…). It got me thinking about the family as BFF question: can they be one and the same?

Just as I generally believe that husbands and BFFs should fall under separate-but-equal, I think one has to distinguish family from friends. Yes, my brother and I are incredibly, perhaps unusually, close. I call him about pretty much anything and everything—Modern Family, professional dilemmas, complaints about family. Not that I’ve ever had any (Hi Mom!). Similarly, my mother and I talk every day. She lives only a few blocks away so I see her Quite. Often. Still, I guess I’m a compartmentalizer: I like to keep family in one box, husband in another, BFFs in the third. This doesn’t mean they can’t meet and mingle, but I think it’s helpful to have different people in each role.

Also, there’s a muy importante distinction between friends and family: Friends are people we choose.

In Joseph Epstein’s Friendship: An Expose, he writes, “A best friend is that person who gives you the most delight, support, and comfort, often in those realms where family cannot help. A best friend is perhaps the only person to whom you can complain about the difficulties presented by your family.” I tend to agree with this. If members of my family double as my best friend, then who do I complain to about my family? And, if ever necessary, to whom do I complain about my BFF?

Oh, and in case you’re wondering, I totally asked the author out. She had no cards with her but said it’s important for writers to stick together and I should email her via her website. (I know you’re thinking this was a classic brush off, but I really don’t think so. Perhaps that is classic denial.) She’s around my age and new to the biz too, so I think it might be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Do you think a family member can be a BFF? Or is that akin to mixing business with pleasure? You know where I stand… Now you weigh in.