Today's lunch was taken with an old work husband. We haven't seen each other for a few years but do converse over the socials from time to time. It was wonderful to see him again.
I have a trove of work husbands.
Work husbands, you ask?
Well, it's the working title of a novel I'm about 80% through the first draft.
Yeah. It's a cool concept. A work husband (or wife) is your best mate at work of the opposite sex. The relationship is always purely platonic, but during working hours you apparently joined at the hip. It's good having these close relationships, often forged in shitty work atmospheres and help to keep things on an even keel at work. They're the person you're most comfortable about at work. They make the days go more quickly.
I've had many work husbands, most of whom I'm still in contact with. Reindert was not a work husband. We bonded on a road trip.
EJ is an old work husband
Pat, of Pat and Kat fame, the couple who look after Lucifer when I go away, was a work husband. I remember Kat once thanking me for being his work wife as she said she liked that he was looked after at work. That's the other thing about work husbands - they tend to be married, but their partners sanction the platonic relationship.
I'd never want to shag any of my work husbands. Lovely men, but eww, no.
Anyway, I had a lovely lunch with my old work husband, listening to three years of news and gossip and shenanigans. The normal questions? How were the girls? How are the dogs? What's his sister up to? Have you seen so and so? What are you doing in Darwin? Where have you been on holidays.
I've missed him, like I miss the rest of this odd collection of me.
And then I had to go back to work. He's between gigs, so we swapped notes on pimp experiences and work places.
And then he was off. A quick hug and he was off.
There's something very comforting about these ongoing platonic relationships which give me a lot of joy.
No comments:
Post a Comment