When you know people for twenty five years they in turn know you.  You can’t hide, or make any new face they don’t already recognize.  You can’t clean up your past because, eh hem, they were there.  You can only be yourself, tell the truth and frankly you can just be.

We were women in foodservice.  Marge is still in foodservice professing, at one time, that it is in her blood.  Ridiculous but, God love her, she’s still in Manhattan working the salespeople to be their best.  I bailed long ago and Barb bailed shortly after me.

Foodservice distribution is a hard business.  There is no distributor loyalty and if your #10 green beans are 2 cents more than the other guy, the other guy gets the business. If you can’t deliver before lunch then you don’t get the order.  If you can’t call me on Monday at 4pm for Tuesday delivery you don’t get the order.  Oh my God, stop me I’m speaking that language again.

There is a deadline every day in foodservice distribution. I know, I was the one enforcing the deadline, the one they were whining to when they missed that deadline.  I was the one who had to hear them lament, “Picture this, I’m standing on the chair with the rope around my neck…I’ll do it if you don’t give me an extension to the deadline.  Kick the chair my friend you’re not getting an extension.  Getting nickel and dimed each day does not lead to good customer management.

What it does lead to are friendships that are born in the trenches, which cement in an instant and last for, well, twenty five years.  These women have been there for me in my very darkest hours.  They have sat at my kitchen table and not left until I was breathing again.  They allowed me to be the third wheel at any number of functions just to get me out in the fresh air.  They breathed for me when I couldn’t.

We have been very close for most of the time.  There were several years that I withdrew for reasons I can’t fully grasp anymore and it was not pleasant for me nor was it fair to them. Tragic things happened while I was gone and I deeply regret that I wasn’t standing next to them where I belonged. I hope I’ve apologized enough for that but the fact is once I took the first step back, I was back and so were they.

I’m not altogether sure how to explain that we are completely different people but we are exactly the same.  Marge is much more serious than she once was, Barb is deeply spiritual but amazingly funny and they are both fun to be around.  We were christened the Ladies Auxiliary (meaning supplementary, supporting, and ancillary) many years ago.  I say it was our first boss; a smart ass food guy who emphasized everything with his reading glasses and could drink you under the table. They both say it was our second boss; aptly named Batman, you know who you are you wanna be superhero, who could also drink you under the table but wasn’t quite so mean when he did so.  It was the 80’s what can I tell you…They thought we were ancillary to them but we knew better.  We were supporting one another in a crazy business that had daily deadlines, no boundaries, no time off (what’s a holiday again?) and plenty of atypical customers who had very little manners.  Did I mention I bailed quite some time ago and yet…?

At any rate, it was duly recognized then that the Ladies Auxiliary was something to be reckoned with and that still holds true today.  Do not mess with these women, I can still summon up that deadline enforcing, quick tongued lunatic that I was back then and so can they.  We will be supporting one another well into our old age (no Marge you’re not there yet for crying out loud) with no anticipated break in the monthly (or as close to monthly as possible) meetings anticipated.  We did decide tonight that there would be no red hats involved, but if you know me you already knew that.

See you next month, same place, and same time with coffee to follow.  Love you both.