Surprising a friend was not planned.
I was with another friend, in a town that is familiar, but not our own. The friend I was with, the one who witnessed the Vera Bradley fiasco, called and invited me to hang out in the town that is not our own. It’s our other friend’s town – her stomping grounds.
And she had no idea I was tagging along.
I decided to play that up — to really take her off guard — to knock her socks off.
Thus, when she texted the friend I was with to give her the meeting location and time, I exclaimed, “Let’s really shock her. You go in with her and start ordering and then I’ll just walk in the door a few minutes later!”
The plan was planned.
We agreed (to disagree)that I’d wait in my car, which was hidden at the end of the parking lot.
Waiting outside the door of Coldstone, my friend texted me when our other friend, the intended target of the surprise, drove up.
Feeling rather stalkerish, like some sort of detective spying on alleged cheating spouses, I watched them hug and walk in the door.
I glanced at my watch. I glanced at my cell clock. I glanced at my watch.
I glanced at my cell clock. I couldn’t take another minute, only three had gone by.
I exited my car.
I walked across the parking lot.
I opened the familiar door to Coldstone Creamery.
There stood my friends.
One I’d just seen. One I’d missed dearly.
Excitedly they talked to one another.
I smiled at the sight – a sight for sore eyes.
The unsuspecting friend turned.
Surprise flashed across her face – the kind of surprise face you see people on Extreme Home Makeover make – or people who have their favorite celebrity or sports star “casually” show up at their house.
It was just like those faces.
Yep. I succeeded at throwing a non-birthday-cake-re-mix-surprise.
We hugged really hard. We laughed really hard.
We talked. We ate.
With such success, I’ve determined that I need more surprises in my life.
My goal: to be a thrower of non-birthday-cake-re-mix-surprises.