Dear diary, today I made a friend

That is quite possibly one of the most pathetic things I have ever written.

I ended up going out to the bar with Mary and her friends.  They were all loud and obnoxious and I regretted being there almost instantly.  I don't drink, and the music hurt my ears, and every time Mary's work friends saw my engagement ring they cooed and said how lucky I was, and pulled my hand away from me to eye the stone jealously, and asked if we had a date set, and franky I just wanted to drown them all in their beer pitcher just to be free from their infernal questioning.

I was saved, however, when a young woman walked up to me, said I looked a bit out of sorts and possibly a little distressed, and saved me from the sudden intellectual drought I had found myself in.  At first, I think she was hitting on me, but eventually she saw that she was barking up two of the wrong trees, and she spoke to me as a friend.

We talked about music, and graphic novels, and Firefly, and Being Human, and Torchwood.  She was a bright step up from Mary, who whenever the subject of a show comes up, instantly switches the topic to the attractiveness of that show's male lead.  Yes, I agree with her choices, but it wears on a person.  Some of us graduated from middle school, and have more things to talk about than the opposite sex.

She's agreed to give me some company tomorrow as I slave away at the coffee shop.  It should be fun.

Mary's still whining about me not getting to know her friends better.  Sigh.  I'd better do something to reassure her she's still my best friend.