Slowly, I approached my best friend, Whats-Her-Name at the library circulation desk where she was hard at work as usual.

            “Uh… I have something I want to tell you….” Whats-her-Name glared balefully at me over the top of her magazine so I braced my shoulders and bravely held my head up.  “ I Am In Love!  The Time Has Come For Me To Go With My True Love And Become His Woman!!”

            Whats-Her-Name looked wistfully at her magazine; then laid it down with a regretful sigh.  Her voice was soft.

            “Well, it’s about time.”

               “What do you mean  ‘it’s about time’?” I asked stiffly.

            “Exactly that!  You’ve been alone way too long and it shows.”  Whats-Her-Name said crossly .

            “You’re crazy!  What do you mean ‘it shows’?”  I snatched away the magazine Whats-Her-Name was reaching for.   My dearest friend resigned herself to the fact that we were going to have one of our heart-to-heart chats… whether she wanted to or not.

            “Ruthie, there are certain signs that show when a person has been living alone for too long…and you exhibited all of them.”

            “Like what?”  I asked her with false bravado.  “I was doing fine on my own.”

            “You were acting a bit desperate to get a man or, at least, to make people think you had a man.   It was no secret that you left a trail of beer cans to your front door…in hopes of luring some poor soul into your trap.”  My friend replied.

            “That was a moments aberration and I never did it again.”  Mainly because the plan had been a dismal failure and the price of beer had gone up…dismally. I sneered at Whats-Her-Name.   “Is that the sole reason you have for thinking I’m a man crazy old maid.”

            “That and the fact you used to leave your toilet seat up so people would think a man had been in your apartment.”  Whats-Her-Name replied blithely.  “Oh, yeah…. That romantic dinner for two you told me about?  I know your date was your hamster.”

            I breathed a quick prayer of thanksgiving.  At least she didn’t know about the obscene phone caller who had called me a pervert… simply because I had been good enough to ask him for a date.

            The fact remained… I had been alone… and lonely for many years.  Was I really qualified to judge whether My True Love was my true love…  or just an attempt to ease my loneliness?  For the first time a little doubt gnawed at my certainty.

            “Don’t worry.”  Whats-Her-Name said softly.  As usual she had read my mind. “You would know the difference.  What was the first thing you told me you had learned about being alone? Being lonely while you are alone is never as bad as being lonely when you are with someone else .”

            Her magic words dispelled my doubts.  Happily I flung myself into the chair beside her and gave her back her magazine.

            “I did learn a lot of invaluable lessons about living alone.  You know; I think I should write a book about them.”  I crowed gleefully, ignoring the look of horror that came over Whats-Her-Name’s face.  “I have so much wisdom to share!”

            “That’s probably not necessary, Ruthie.”  What-Her-Name whimpered.  “What could you share with the world….”

            “Silly boots!  For one thing I had to learn to use more… informal names for things… like that thingy you use to fix a flat tire is called a  ‘jack.”  I teased; then added thoughtfully, “Telling people I kept a John in the trunk earned me a lot of strange looks and a visit from the vice squad.”

            “I really don’t want to hear this, Ruthie.”  Whats-Her-Name gathered up her magazine and walked toward the exit.

            “There’s lots of other stuff too.”  I skipped happily along with her.  “Like ‘Reheated spaghetti is just as good for breakfast as it is for dinner.’ And  ‘If you are naming the dust bunnies under your bed; it’s time to get a pet.’

            “Ruthie, you are making my head hurt…again!”   She snarled at me.  I knew she was joking so I went on.

            “One of my favorites is  ‘Being horny is no excuse for trying to revive a dead relationship.’  It does; however have a certain appeal as a reason to pursue a new one.”

            “That’s it!  I don’t care if I’ve only been here fifteen minutes.  It’s been the longest fifteen minutes of my life!  I’m going home. “   Whats-Her-Name broke and ran for her van.

            “Wait!   You haven’t the last and most profound lesson.”  I shouted to my retreating friend, as she sped away from the library in her vehicle.   “Never, never use a cucumber directly from the refrigerator!”

THE END