We'd meet at Borders Books on most Friday nights, single ladies all. Originally we thought of this rendez-vous point as an alternative from meeting the opposite sex in less desirable drinking establishments. We'd saunter in like literary Ya Ya Sisters in all our ladies' night out finery, stake out a table for 4, 6 or 8 and greet each other with the kind of heartfelt hugs that only women can give one another. Later, while sipping on lattes or mochas or chai teas, we'd flip the pages of an interesting magazine or share the latest contents of a book that we had discovered within the stacks. Mind you, while perusing, we'd forever be keeping an eye out for buried treasure between the isles in the form of eligible intellectual males. Alas, this was never to be, but we definitely enjoyed each others' company and whatever entertainment that was provided starting promptly at 7 pm. What transpired in the lives of each of us during the week was most often revealed in a soiree of juicy gossip disguised as conversation. Our souls were laid bare to one another at times, but for the most part, it was the sheer laughter and wit that I will remember most about our solidarity gatherings. A toast to you, ladies, for caring to share your glorious essences. Some of us moved away, some of us married, some of us found life in a different direction, and sadness now reigns since all Borders bookstores shall close, not allowing us to ever have a reunion within their walls again. Instead, we shall have to affectionately commit to memory how we collectively, if only for a moment in time, were the one and only indelible Borders Babes.
©2011 Debbie Ballard
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