Eric is Mistaken

My old roommate Gloria moved to New York City several months ago. I love to make fun of her because she's a good sport, and she does things that are funny, but the truth is she's brilliant and incredibly successful. She finished her PhD about a year ago, and has been turning down job offers all over the place, just waiting for the perfect one. I guess that it finally came around, because she took this insane job on Wall Street, leaving me so she could move to Manhattan where she now lives in some ritzy neighbourhood in a building with a doorman where they gave her new granite countertops and reglazed her bathtub before she moved in. She works long hours during the day, and then goes home to sleep in a huge pile of money that's loaded each night onto a solid gold bed frame by a team of trained unicorns. I swear this is true.

We hadn't hung out a whole lot in the past year, because she was busy with consulting work, and I was busy being pregnant/having hemorrhoids/taking care of a newborn, but when I got the news that she was moving, I was surprisingly devastated. Don't it always seem to go?

Anyway, she called a couple days ago so we could gossip about people we both knew, and it was really nice to chat and catch up. After we hung up, I went to find Eric.

Carol: Hey, so when the weather gets a little warmer, I want to take a trip to New York to hang out with Gloria.

Eric (very enthused and excited): Yeah, totally!

Carol: No, not with you. Just me.

Eric: Oh. (unhappy)

Carol: You can come next time.

Eric: Hmph. (sullen and grumpy)

Poor Eric. This is what happens when we have kids and you go away for guys' weekends, bachelor parties, and the occasional bike race. Mama cashes them in for girls' weekends in New York City.

I can't wait.