When the server walked past our table, my hand shot upward like a high schooler eager to answer the teacher’s question.
“Can we get two more of the same, please?” I asked upon getting his attention.
“Another round of espresso martinis? I got you, boss.”
Leona grinned and nodded in approval, as expected. We go back like four flats on a Cadillac. From study buddies back at the G.O.A.T. HBCU to marketing professionals putting in work for thriving companies, we’ve remained a two-person support system. It’s a celebration every time we link up. So it’s only right that we throw back a few cocktails while getting our yap on.
Sipping a boozy, caffeinated concoction at 2 p.m. on a Tuesday has a way of making me chatty. It also makes me wonder why more of my peers don’t observe the same tradition. Weeks before this rendezvous, Leona and I both planned to burn a day of PTO, coordinating our schedules like a couple of executives setting off for a retreat. Except the only agenda on this outing was tacos and real talk. We call it the skip day.
The premise is simple: You and a friend both call out from your respective gigs for a workday hangout. This is not earmarked time for errands or spent couch rotting in solitude. It’s two (or more!) friends sharing a mental health day while the rest of Corporate America clocks in. Skip day is the adult version of faking sick in grade school, except you don’t have to fake anything. You just make sure you’re anywhere but your workplace.
The skip day didn’t start as a formal thing. It evolved—the way most good traditions do—out of necessity. After weeks of failed meetups and playing calendar tag, we decided to multitask by coworking from a local Seattle café. We locked in, knocked off to-do lists, and squeezed in some kikis between tasks. It became a regular thing every few weeks. Eventually, we decided to cut the work part out altogether.
