WANTED: Friend

I don’t usually let the calendar dictate my life. But when I saw February is National Friendship Month, I took it as a shove. Because it turns out that I could use a nearby human or two.

To be clear, I am deeply blessed with many extraordinary people in my life. I have history-rich, soul-deep, text-at-midnight, cry/laugh-on-the-phone friends, and I love them to pieces. If I could, I’d load them all onto a bus and head over to the nearby pub while we sing out loud to The Partridge Family’s Greatest Hits.

But I can’t.
Because they mostly live elsewhere. In faraway places that require airfare.

And while FaceTime is fun, it doesn’t help when you need someone to wander Kohls with a zero agenda, take a really slow walk because your knee is unreliable, or maybe split a heaping plate of buffalo wings while solving the world’s problems.

I’ve been meaning to make local friends for two and a half years… but ‘meaning to’ has not been an effective strategy.

My first year in my new city was filled with working, house-nesting and city-touring, finding my footing – and my favorite bar, to be honest.

Year two? Cancer.
And while I met some amazing women while sitting in the chemo chair, cancer is not a strong friendship-building season.

Year three? Recover. Heal. Work. Travel. Write.
Blah blah blah.

Now?
Hello, year four. And still no local friends.

So I’ve decided this is the year I am officially participating in the activity of friend-finding.

I’ve already tried on a few groups like outfits in a dressing room, and so far nothing fits. Too tight. Too beige. Too loud. Yes, I have causes I care about – but I don’t want “shared outrage” to be the primary language of every friendship. I’d rather bond over fries and sarcasm first (kind of like foreplay), and then dismantle democracy together. A crafters group? Sure… but if yarn and glue guns are the entire personality of a group, I’m gonna start eyeing the exit by week three.

I’m skeptical of those friend-dating sites that make you pick interest words like “outdoorsy” and “dependable,” which makes me sound less like a person and more like a well-bred Labrador retriever. Very few of their adjectives apply to me. So until there are checkboxes for “Favorite Word is FUCK,” “Kick-Ass Dinosaur Earrings,” or “Hideously Opinionated,” I’m out.

That left me wondering about an online ad.
Hmmm.
Bold. Fun. Slightly unhinged.
Kinda like me… and the people I’d like to meet.

So I leaned in with brutal honesty and came up with a first draft:

WANTED: FRIEND
Female-ish human preferred, but I’m flexible.

I don’t need a new emergency contact or a ride-or-die. I’m not seeking a soul-merging, braid-each-other’s-hair bestie situation.
Just a seeking company. Companionship. Camaraderie.
Someone geographically convenient and emotionally literate.

I’m interesting and imperfect.

I like reading, Scrabble, word games, and puzzles.
Trash talking and eye-rolling.
Healthy debating – although not every margarita needs to come with a manifesto.
Chatting at a bar. (Not a table… NEVER a table!)
Baseball. (No Yankees fans, please.)
Conversations that have a pulse. Preferably one with bite.

I’m sixty-four, happily married, pleasantly ‘upholstered,’ with one silly basset.
I write for a living and because I can’t not write.

I am fun. And funny. Frequently snarky. That’s not a phase… it’s my personality.
I am not athletic. If I’m running, assume that I’m being chased.
I do not smoke. Oxygen is underrated.
I am not religious. I do, however, believe in kindness and common sense.
I do not tolerate hypocrisy, false pretenses, or preconceived notions. If that’s your vibe, please enjoy it… far away from me.

I lean very, very left. You don’t have to agree with me on everything, but if you think empathy is weakness, we will not be a match.

I am not daring. I will not cliff dive or bungee jump. For me, being risky is buying a bath mat without reading all 47 reviews, or wearing white while eating pasta…

I have the mouth of a truck driver and the curiosity of a journalist.
I will analyze a menu for 35 minutes as though I were researching a dissertation, and debate you to death about something trivial purely for sport.

I have a few sharp edges: if you stick around, you will find them.
But if I like you, I will show up consistently, text you hysterical memes in the middle of the night, laugh out loud with you until they tell us to tone it down, and sit at the bar with you for years.

But never a table.

Apply within.

(If you’re interested, or know anyone in Chattanooga who might be, let me know!)