Improvised Friendships

The ups and (mostly) downs of making friends as adults

My wife really needs friends.

Seriously. She’s like a fish out of water here. The Chicago winters and lack of sunshine are new to her, but the hardest part has been making friends. I feel a bit guilty because I know she’d move back home if it weren’t for me, so I’m trying to help.

We ended up Googling the easiest ways to meet people in Chicago, and the top suggestion was to take an improv class. I immediately thought: there’s no way I’m doing improv.

I mean, have you ever been to an improv show? It’s like an episode of “Dora the Explorer.” They ask the audience what to do, then stare at them like creeps until they get an answer. And after the show they take all the credit.

I shared this joke with a bunch of improvisers once, and they laughed their asses off. Then, believe it or not, they asked me to join their improv team.

The next suggestion we found was a dance class, so we chose salsa. It fits since she’s a Latina who likes dancing, and though I’m Black with some inherent rhythm, salsa is another story. I might be a step ahead of the average white guy, but that’s not saying much. Still, despite my reluctance, we signed up for a salsa class.