Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Reggie

Being friends with me isn’t fun for anyone. I’m loud, aggressive, unruly, and have spent the majority of my life in a blackout. It’s shocking that I have any friends at all…yet I do…loads of them…ok 7…minus my parents…5. I have 5 friends. No but seriously, I have a lot of friends. And I ask you, what is wrong with these people? Initially, I thought I’d take this opportunity to thank all of them for dealing with my constant insubordination but upon further review, I’m actually deeply concerned with their choices in comrades. Specifically, I’m concerned about my friend, Reggie. Reggie has known me for about 10 years and he has suffered a myriad of consequences, as a result. I recently screamed at Reggie for not reminding me that it was his birthday and he suggested that I write an entire story about him as his birthday gift. As you can see, Reggie is intensely selfish. Nonetheless, Reggie, this is for you.

I first met Reggie when I was living with 3 boys in Chicago. Like most formidable moments in my life, I remember none of this, however, Reggie claims he was in my bathroom one day and that I walked in and said, “Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my house?” Seeing as Reggie didn’t live there, I find that to be a fair question but apparently he was dumbfounded. As noted earlier, he made the horrible decision to seek me out and be friends with me. Based on my hostile greeting, we can only assume that Reggie has deep-seeded emotional issues. There’s no other explanation for why he would continue to pursue a wretched shrew like me. Let’s all say it together…daddy issues.

I don’t fully recall the 2nd time I met Reggie. I just know he started dating my friend Josh and then he was around all the time. And he was constantly yelling at me for things I didn’t remember. Apparently, he had been stranded on the side of the road one day with my roommate Julius and when Julius called me for help I denied him and went back to the very serious business of making pot brownies. Again, this strikes me as perfectly reasonable. Why should I let these damn cookies burn because you forgot to put gas in your car? And furthermore, I didn’t even know Reggie yet but not a hangover went by that didn’t consist of Reggie screaming at me for leaving him on the side of the road like a brute.

As the years went on, Reggie tricked me into liking him. He’s crass, vulgar and judgmental which, are all the qualities I admire in a person. I liked Reggie so much that I would often call him in a blackout and invite him over to my house only to be fully passed out by the time he arrived forcing him to break into my apartments by way of neighbors, roommates and drug dealers, all of whom had keys to my abode.

The final blow was on one of my birthdays. I was very drunk and everyone knows that when I get loaded I start acting unreasonably. I maintain that everyone should have known better than to have my birthday party at my coke dealer's bar but those God damn clowns were relentless. On this particular night, I was feeling decidedly playful and opted to participate in one of my favorite drunken games entitled, “Circus Tricks.” Circus Tricks is a game where I get drunk and beat people up. On the night of my birthday party, it involved me running and jumping on Reggie only to catapult him in and through a glass table. Being the sneaky devil that I am, I lithely pounced away without being noticed, leaving Reggie alone in a pile of glass.

Somehow, this was not the end of our friendship. I suppose he had compassion for me as Circus Tricks typically results in me getting hurt as well. Literally all of my Circus Tricks have resulted in major injuries. Examples include fighting a newspaper stand and bruising my entire body, falling through a glass table and getting stitches, and jumping over a railroad track and breaking my leg. All of these incidents were precipitated by me attempting to run and jump on someone. It always struck me as hilarious at the time and no one ever complained because I was already in shambles. Did I ever tell you about the time I had a tie-dyed cast? It was awesome.

So on my birthday, as I stood in the corner laughing and barefoot for some reason, Reggie didn’t yell at me. He didn’t throw a drink in my face. He merely got up, shrugged his shoulders and walked out of the bar.

Overall, Reggie is a moron. Look at what I’ve put him through. As my final birthday wish, I hope you can get a grip on whatever demons you’re haunted by that lead you to pursue this tumultuous companionship. I love you Reggie and unless you’ve secretly been getting money this entire time from some non-profit that focuses on befriending drunken women, you’ve got real problems. Either way, happy birthday….you sicko.

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