Meet My Friend, Angie

Have you met Angie? You should. Maybe you've heard this before, but she is absolutely wonderful. She gives me great advice (which I sometimes don't listen to, but only because I can be stupidly stubborn and well, do idiot things despite knowing better), is tremendously supportive even when I end up doing said idiot things, and has the unwavering ability to brighten my day even when I show up to work in the human form of a little black raincloud with lightening bolt accoutrements.

She is also from the east coast of Canada, and it always seems to happen that when I really care about someone, I will unconciously start reflecting their patterns of speech and/or accents. It made my icy heart feel a surge of warmth when recently someone noticed that I say 'car' the way that someone from Nova Scotia might. That is, their 'ar' words sound like 'aaarrr'. Kind of like a pirate, yarr! But a super duper nice pirate that doesn't try to steal your booty or your cat, or loot and pillage your apartment or Hyundai Accent or treasure chest or whatever; instead does really thoughtful and touching things, makes the best picnic snacks, and is pretty much the nicest person, pirate or non-pirate, that you will ever meet.

Still don't believe me? Geez, you are a tough sell. Though I suspect you may just be playing hard to get. How minxy of you!


The first time I had a piece of my work published, Angie bought me flowers. She also printed off and mailed the piece to her mom. She has never once gone to HR about all the times that I have sung her Enrique Inglesias' "Hero", or the times I've left overly specific love notes on her desk, not even the time her husband called and I told him that her and I were running away to Acapulco to celebrate our (platonic?) love.


You know what else is wonderful? She comes across as the sweetest, most innocent and pure person (which she is), and then out of nowhere will say something holy-shit dirty that catches you completely off guard. And I LOVE it! I wouldn't say I'm a line crosser, but I am definitely a line pusher, and I will often do or say things to friends to illicit a reaction. I'm usually trying to be creepy, or trying to say something that will catch the other person unawares. So when Angie tries to out-creep me, or says something absolutely filthy, there is a part of my heart that breaks away and attaches itself to hers.


So I must tell you about the time she called work when I had the closing shift, and we were only open eight more minutes, and I was anxious to leave, and I didn't recognize her voice, and when I picked up the phone all I heard was this, in a really breathy voice:


"Hiiii, I'd like to book a hot..."

There's more, but I pause here because we offer hot stone massages at work, and there was loud music on in the caller's background, and she sounded like some young, ditzy girl that turns up the ends of all her words like they are a question or something. So, my immediate reaction was one of annoyance, and I remember thinking, "Who is the asshole calling me at 9:52pm to make what is probably going to be an irritatingly complicated booking? And also they sound drunk. Terrific."
But then! Bless the stars, this is the full version of what was pretty much said:

Caller: Hiiii, I'd like to book a hot, tall, leggy brunette?

*a noticeable pause*

Me: Umm, I'm not sure that I can help you?

*I look outside the window to make sure no one weird is out there*

Caller: Come on out with usssss! We're at Canoe Club!!!
Me: Uh...

Caller: But then we might go to the Bard!!!

Me: Angie?

Caller: Yeah!

Me: Oh fuck. I totally didn't recognize your voice. Hahahahahahaha! You totally got me. I was genuinely creeped out for a minute. Hahaha! You little floozy, you!

Also, Angie and her husband (who is just as wonderful, by the way) sometimes take me on day trips that make me feel the kind of simple and completely fulfilling happiness a dog must feel when they get taken to the beach and then travel in the car with their head out the window, the wind blowing in their face. I 100% mean this in an absolutely complimentary way. In the way that dogs have this miraculous ability to seem filled with nothing but unbridled joy and ease when they are happy, and completely released of any burdened or troubled thoughts. That is how I feel. I feel happy and free and so grateful to have such great friends. 

Then just when I thought I could not love anyone more, she went and gave me a reason to consider renting her out to people who don't yet know of her wonderfulness. The other day, I got home from work and took my dogs for a walk at the park behind my house. As I am bending over to pick up my dog's poop, I see a car just like Angie's and I think, "Hmm, that car looks just like An--" and exactly as I am thinking this, who else but Angie pulls her entire upper body out of the passenger side window and screams at me, "I LOVE YOUUUUU!"

It was tremendous, and a great coincidence. I was also holding dog shit as this happened.

But you know what? I really don't want to oversell anything. Yes, Angie is terrific or whatever, but at the end of the day, she's still only a mediocre music bingo player. She always gets distracted and forgets to dab her card when the songs come on, and I have to sometimes dab it for her. AND THEN SHE STILL WINS!! But I say this with love, and really, I cannot possibly think of another person I'd rather see win the red, oversized "MOLSON CANADIAN" t-shirts. That, and by the end of the evening when I am too drunk to drive home and am craving chocolate, I know her and her husband will caringly walk with me to a convenience store, and then let me pass out on their couch.

Natalie Bell hopes that one day, you get to be friends with Angie too.