"It was quite accidental, you know," Robert begins, his voice tinged with amusement over a video call, his background faintly echoing the familiar clutter of a home office. "We were just hanging out online, escaping the mid-week drudgery, when someone shared this cover of 'Cat Rubbing' by Nachoneko. It's a peculiar song, catchy, almost hypnotic. The chorus goes, 'Everybody, today is rubbing day.' That line, it was like a spark."

The original song by the Japanese vocaloid producer Kashii Moimi was captivating in its simplicity, with lyrics that playfully explored themes of affection and companionship. But it was Nachoneko's rendition that ensnared them; her cover featuring original artwork and a voice so soft it seemed to caress each syllable, leaving a lingering warmth. This rendition, with its visual and auditory allure, deeply resonated with the group’s collective mood that evening, leaving an indelible impression.

"We couldn't stop talking about it," Robert chuckles, adjusting his glasses as he recalls the night. "There was something about that chorus, the simplicity and the outright silliness of it that just... clicked with us. So, right there, in the spur of the moment, we declared every Wednesday to be Rubbing Day."

The tradition started as a jest, a midweek marker that was both a celebration and a gentle mockery of themed days. But as the weeks rolled on, Rubbing Day evolved into something far more significant for this tight-knit community. It became a digital sanctuary, a place where the mundane was suspended and the fantastical reigned for a few hours.

"Every Wednesday, we'd log on, and the first order of business was to play the song. It didn't matter where you were; you could be in a café, your living room, or halfway across the world," Robert explains. "Once that song played, it was like a signal to let go of your worries and just be present with each other."

The simplicity of the ritual belied its impact. With each passing Rubbing Day, the bonds within the group strengthened. New traditions emerged organically—playing games, sharing stories, and the much-anticipated roll of the song by their specially designed Telegram bot, which randomly selected a cover of "Cat Rubbing" to play.

"I actually set up the bot," Robert clarifies, with a hint of pride in his voice. "It was one of those spur-of-the-moment ideas that just took off. Everyone loved it, especially Michael. He was perhaps its biggest fan. The bot would randomly play a cover of the song, and getting the Nachoneko cover was considered a lucky omen. It was our little superstition."

But not all was light-hearted within the Rubbing Day lore. Robert pauses, reflecting on a more somber chapter of their story—the banishment of Michael from using the /rub command, a punishment meted out not by any formal decree but as the result of what Robert calls "a ridiculous yet serious breach of our unspoken code."

"Michael made a disparaging comment about Elixir, the programming language. It was all in good fun, but we take our programming languages very seriously," Robert explains, the corners of his mouth twitching with a suppressed smile. "His penance was to write a distributed key-value store in Elixir and demonstrate it to us. Until then, he's barred from rolling the song."

This incident, though playful on the surface, stirred a wave of creativity among the group. Poems and songs were written about Michael’s exile, each piece echoing themes of redemption, resilience, and the humor inherent in their shared predicament.

One such poignant expression came through "The Lost Hymn of Rubbing Day," a poem whose author remains unknown. Its words poignantly captured Michael's turmoil: "He sought the joy of Rubbing Day with a heavy heart, wandering in silent lament through the days that stretched like an endless desert..."

I reached out to Michael, who remains exiled from the command. He shared how the poem touched him, reflecting his sense of isolation and longing. "It was surreal, honestly," he said. "I never thought a casual comment would lead to this poetic saga. But it made me realize how integral Rubbing Day had become to my sense of connection. It’s touching to see how my absence was felt and expressed."

Despite the beauty of the words, the reality of his banishment weighed heavily on him. "The hardest part was missing out on the joy and anticipation of what the bot would play," Michael explained. "Not being a part of that, even temporarily, felt like I was missing a part of something very special."

Though Michael's perspective on Rubbing Day has deepened, there's a lingering bitterness about his continued exclusion. "I'm definitely keeping my comments about programming languages to myself from now on," he joked, though the laughter was tinged with regret.

"We started this as a joke," Robert admits, his voice softening. "But now, it has become integral to our lives. It's a reminder that the right song and shared laughter can turn an ordinary day into an unforgettable experience."

As Rubbing Day continues to evolve, it serves as a poignant reminder of the power of shared experiences to bind friends together. On Wednesdays, when "Cat Rubbing" starts playing, it's more than just a routine; it's a moment when friends reconnect, setting aside their daily stresses. The song, with its invitation to "love me, my darling," and its themes of longing and connection, echoes the complex layers of friendship that have come to define this tradition.

Perhaps now, more than ever, we find ourselves in need of such rituals—simple yet profound acts of coming together to celebrate the absurd and the beautiful. Consider joining us in the observation of Rubbing Day. It's a chance to pause and appreciate the presence of friends, even from afar. It reminds us that in our shared moments of joy and music, we are creating enduring memories. Today, and every Wednesday to come, let's cherish the spirit of Rubbing Day, and may every random stroke of affection find you well and smiling.