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With the Ladies Who Lunch
The ritual of the luncheon isn't just for the rich and famous
By Moryt Milo
One of my dear friends just celebrated her 40th birthday. The occasion brought eight girlfriends together. We gathered at a small bistro in Los Gatos and had a birthday luncheon.
Now let me say straight out, I don't really consider myself the luncheon type. It's probably because I've always viewed the word "luncheon" as something connected to the rich and famous. On the other hand, I am very experienced at "having lunch," the latter method being something we all know well; run into a to-go place, grab just about anything and wolf it down. This usually happens in your car or at your desk, assuming you even get out of the car to pick up the food in the first place. It's the "I just have to get something in my stomach" routine--one at which I am very proficient. But going to a luncheon is a completely different affair.
Luncheons always happen for a reason. Most of the time it's to celebrate something. Other times it's to network with colleagues or partake in some charitable function. Then there are those rare occasions when a group of friends somehow manage to coordinate their schedules and meet to chat and catch up.
At a luncheon the pace is slow and the purpose is focused. The food is usually a step up and there is actually a waiter serving you, even refilling your glass more then once.
Okay, if by now you've found yourself saying, "So who cares?" then you've missed the whole point. It's not semantics we're discussing; it's what the luncheon represents, which is not as mundane as you may think, and here's why. You have to take time out of your otherwise driven day to enjoy yourself when you normally wouldn't; and you have to realize that that's OK.
But beware, going to a luncheon in the middle of the week will probably throw you completely off balance. For starters, it's against the rules to come for only an hour. Everyone will expect you to stay, enjoy, and--here's the key word--linger for possibly up to two hours. Second, you have to actually loosen up and relax, which is usually difficult when you are constantly checking your watch and worrying that your email is piling up. Third, the people who invited you actually expect you to partake in the social occasion. You can't just sit at the table nodding and smiling and waiting for the all-clear signal so you can bolt for the door.
If you can get past those three issues and stop feeling guilty, you will actually discover something interesting. A luncheon experience can be downright therapeutic. That's something I would never have believed until I sat there with my friends and thoroughly enjoyed myself.
It wasn't easy at first. When I was being seated, I definitely felt out of place. It had nothing to do with the people. I knew them all. It was my concern with Issue No. 1: could I afford to be there over an hour? Which of course pushed Issue No. 2 to the forefront of my mind: how do I loosen up and relax? And when the women on both sides of me kept asking my opinion on various topics, I knew I had to stop nodding (Issue No. 3) and get into the game.
Before I knew it I was lunching with the best of them. I actually lost track of time and didn't care. I was enjoying my food and actually tasting it. The whole experience felt like a mini getaway, which made me realize how little I do get away, or for that matter focus on myself. And it had me filing a mental note to make more of an effort because, as the commercial says, "I'm worth it!"
After two-and-a-half guilt-free hours, a zillion glasses of iced tea, great conversation and even some dessert, I got up wishing that it wasn't time to leave. I walked out of the restaurant feeling recharged and ready to go. I felt--dare I say it--downright happy. I need to do this luncheon thing more often, I thought.
I wished my good friend a final happy birthday and walked to my car. Zipping down Highway 9, I realized that my friend's birthday luncheon hadn't been only a gift to her, but had turned into an unexpected gift for me, too.
Campbell resident Moryt Milo is a freelance writer whose column appears every other week in this space. Contact Moryt at morytb@aol.com.
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Campbell, California
