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That evening, to distract my mind from the previous events of that day, I sat on my couch in my apartment, flicking endlessly through the television channels. Not only was I trying to avert my thoughts to something else, I was also waiting for Ginger to arrive, so I could explode in a rant about what happened.
I released a heavy sigh as I carelessly propped my bare feet onto the coffee table. Everything from soap operas to cartoons flashed across the television as I automatically pressed the next channel button. I guess my mind for the past few years had been so preoccupied with musicals and Broadway, that I hadn't spent much time in front of a television. And boy, had the shows gotten extremely weird. Especially Disney.
My ears perked up at the familiar sound of a key turning the lock and a door opening. I immediately switched off the television and hoped from the comfortable seat. I rushed into the kitchen, my heart beginning to pound at the mere recollection of the incident.
When I was standing in the tiled kitchen, I saw Ginger placing down her purse and other casual oddities she'd taken that day to work. However, one thing I didn't recognize was a container of Ben and Jerry's cookie dough ice cream.
"What's that for?" I asked, my thoughts temporarily distracted by the delicious dessert set on the counter.
"You," she said nonchalantly.
"Thanks!" I said happily, yanking open the silverware drawer. "But why? It's not our Friend-Anniversary? is it?" A tinge of guilt swam through my veins.
"No," Ginger chuckled. "I knew you might want to rant and just thought this would help you cope." She produced another ice cream container from her bag---obviously for herself.
I guess she knew me way better than I originally thought. I thanked her again and pride the lid off the container of ice cream, my spoon poised and ready.
We walked into the silent living room and sat down on the couch.
"Tell me everything," Ginger said eagerly, dipping her spoon into her creamy ice cream.
"Oh, believe me," I began, "I will."
I proceeded to tell Ginger, in the fullest of detail, the entire story of what happened at Nadia's. Everything until they left. All the while, Ginger listened patiently, while I rambled on and---momentarily---went down some brief rabbit trails.
When I had finished, both Ginger and I had almost completely devoured our dessert (which, yes, came before our dinner). We sat in a comfortable silence for some minutes as Ginger thought over the story.
In conclusion, she said, "You have the worst luck."
I chuckled and nodded in full agreement. I set my empty carton down onto the coffee table and sighed in contentment.
"I just don't understand about the flash," I declared. "I don't think---except for maybe two times---I've ever used the flash setting!"
"What a time for your camera to malfunction," said Ginger sympathetically.
