  Have you ever been friends with someone who intoxicates you? I mean this literally. It's like you are drunk but the good-drunk, where you aren't saying stupid things yet and you haven't yet vomited, and you aren't drunk-dialing ex-boyfriends. Someone who just being around them makes you feel like you drank three shots of vodka in 10 minutes and chased it with a leaded Red Bull?
I have a friend like that. Actually, I have three if you count Vicente, but I'm going to talk about Lisa right now. We leave for a late lunch (1:00 is late for me, but after last night and the vomiting, I'm not really hungry today) so she can go tan and I can get my nail fixed that broke when I shoved it into my bedside phone at 10:45 last night after a prank call (you'll get yours, Edgar). Afterwards (yes, after Ms. High Maintenance had to go back to the nail salon and get a ridge filed down, at which I am certain the two nail techs were cursing me in Vietnamese), Lisa and I drove to Starbuck's for frappucinos. We're in Texas, winter doesn't apply here (at least not in Dallas, not this year). I'm going on no sleep, thought an extra dose of caffeine would be a good idea. 2:00 in the afternoon is around the time I start dragging and need a little lift. So I order an espresso shot and we pulled up to the drive-through window. I'm sitting with a lap full of frappucinos, I'm tired and just a little cranky about my nail. I'm contemplating going home early. Lisa is staring at her receipt, waiting for one last drink, and deadpans, "Leave it to Brenda to add a shot.
" One of those you-had-to-be-there situations, but it started us rolling. Together, we're like teenagers, honking and waving at guys on the side of the road cleaning up trash. Guys who have no idea what we're saying because they don't speak English. We're laughing and I guess the caffeine kicks in, because Lisa ends up telling me what she really thinks about my new sunglasses. I liked them - Burberry frames that are kind of reminiscent of Elton John in the 70s. I said, "Fine, you're being honest. I'll give them to Dianne. She liked them. " Lisa replies, "No, I don't want Dianne wearing them, either. " Undaunted, I come back with, "Well, Linda liked them. Maybe I'll give them to her. " Lisa said, "I don't want you saying, 'Lisa doesn't like these glasses, here, you have them. '" So I told her I'd tell Linda they hurt my eyes. "No, tell her they hurt Lisa's eyes. " At least she was honest.
Until December and that cute little guy at the Benefit counter, I had no idea I was walking around looking like a Joan Crawford look-alike. Lisa is impeccable with her word. Sometimes more than I want her to be. But she gave me cute new sunglasses so I guess that makes up for it. C 2004 your-non-girlfriend.com 
