Friday morning, during a heated soccer match between Angola and Mexico, I was on the phone with my friend Maria, trying to understand the point of a soccer game.
ME: Now, why am I interested in this again?
MARIA: Because! It's the world cup! The entire world stops to watch the game!
ME: You know...I think Green Acres in on right now...
MARIA: Whatever, David. You just dont understand. You didn't grow up in a country where soccer was everywhere and everything.
ME: Yeah, you're probably right. The only soccer I played was in seventh grade in PE. That was horrible.
MARIA: Why?
ME: That was when we had that really hot spring, remember? And all Mr. Cota-Robles kept screaming was, "Kick the ball! Kick the ball!" The only balls we wanted to kick, belonged to him.
MARIA: David, hold on, I'm getting another call.
Seven minutes later, with no goals being made or a chance of Maria ever coming back, I hung the phone up, only to pick it up again.
MARIA: David! You're not going to believe who that was!
ME: Who?
MARIA: Skye! And do you know what he just told me?!
ME: That he's gonna swallow another bottle of Advil?
MARIA: Brenda got married!
Brenda Lewis. You cant really describe her, you just had to know her. Brenda was a sweet and funny person, who held the best all-night house parties. Or as she used to call it, the weekend. Through training wheels and training bras, Maria and Brenda had been the best of friends. I was introduced to the BFF's in high school, through a mutual friend, and together they helped make my senior year one of the greatest years of my life.
Then, one night last year, after a series of unfortunate and too long to explain events, Maria and I had parted ways with Brenda vowing to never again speak to her for as long as we lived. Or at least until she called and apologized.
As Maria told me the surprising story, I realized it had been over a year that we hadnt talked to Brenda. Was our friendship really over? Did we all despise each other so much we were willing to deprive each other from sharing our delight? Or was Skye playing games with us? I mean, after all, Skye was the same person who told us he met Paris Hilton at his work, when she drove through town during the second season of The Simple Life. But Paris doesn't dine at Boston Market...does she?
The next night, boneless buffalo wings and potato skins from Applebees, were the perfect antidote to Skye's anecdote, as Maria and I sat in a parked car at the De Anza Drive-In. Unfortunately, before we could see The Breakup, we would have to sit through an hour and a half of pure agony. Or as I like to call it, The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift. Luckily, the dialouge was brief and predictable, giving Maria and I a chance to vent about the marriage of our old friend.
MARIA: I mean, we talked about getting married. Like what we were gonna wear, who was gonna get married first...all that stuff.
ME: Who was gonna get married first?
MARIA: Well, I was supposed to go before Brenda...so I guess that means...if Brenda was before me, I'm next.
ME: Wow, good job, Ray!
MARIA: Whatever...its just sad that this is how life is gonna be from now on, you know? I mean, I looked up to Brenda. She was like so awesome. And it's just sad that we cant even share our happiness with each other.
ME: Yeah, I know, it's sad. I miss being her friend too. But we dont need her approval to be happy. I mean, if she wants to hold grudges, that's her problem. The way I see it is good friends support each other after something bad has happened. Great friends act as if nothing happened.
As Maria pondered over my words, I turned to the giant screen to see if I could place Nathalie Kelley's accent. I couldnt. So instead, I mentally congratulated myself on being such a good friend. It was Brenda's loss if she wanted to continue harboring onto anger. Maria was a good person who totally didnt deserve to be sad. She was smart, funny, loyal, and she was picking her nose. From the corner of my eye, I saw Maria really going at it. It was gross. It was disgusting. It was weird. How could someone be that comfortable with themselves? Stuck in the car with my oddly confidant nose picking friend, I wondered...how could I pick a nose picker for a friend? How could I be friends with someone who had disgusting habits?
If I was a child, I would totally call Maria out on it, with maybe a finger point and fake gag. But being that I'm a mature and responsible adult, I took the grown-up approach...complete and utter denial. It's just...what do you do when the one person you look up to, lets you down? I know people arent perfect and I know there's that chance of being let down by those we put on a pedestal, but how do you cope?
ME: Now, why am I interested in this again?
MARIA: Because! It's the world cup! The entire world stops to watch the game!
ME: You know...I think Green Acres in on right now...
MARIA: Whatever, David. You just dont understand. You didn't grow up in a country where soccer was everywhere and everything.
ME: Yeah, you're probably right. The only soccer I played was in seventh grade in PE. That was horrible.
MARIA: Why?
ME: That was when we had that really hot spring, remember? And all Mr. Cota-Robles kept screaming was, "Kick the ball! Kick the ball!" The only balls we wanted to kick, belonged to him.
MARIA: David, hold on, I'm getting another call.
Seven minutes later, with no goals being made or a chance of Maria ever coming back, I hung the phone up, only to pick it up again.
MARIA: David! You're not going to believe who that was!
ME: Who?
MARIA: Skye! And do you know what he just told me?!
ME: That he's gonna swallow another bottle of Advil?
MARIA: Brenda got married!
Brenda Lewis. You cant really describe her, you just had to know her. Brenda was a sweet and funny person, who held the best all-night house parties. Or as she used to call it, the weekend. Through training wheels and training bras, Maria and Brenda had been the best of friends. I was introduced to the BFF's in high school, through a mutual friend, and together they helped make my senior year one of the greatest years of my life.
Then, one night last year, after a series of unfortunate and too long to explain events, Maria and I had parted ways with Brenda vowing to never again speak to her for as long as we lived. Or at least until she called and apologized.
As Maria told me the surprising story, I realized it had been over a year that we hadnt talked to Brenda. Was our friendship really over? Did we all despise each other so much we were willing to deprive each other from sharing our delight? Or was Skye playing games with us? I mean, after all, Skye was the same person who told us he met Paris Hilton at his work, when she drove through town during the second season of The Simple Life. But Paris doesn't dine at Boston Market...does she?
The next night, boneless buffalo wings and potato skins from Applebees, were the perfect antidote to Skye's anecdote, as Maria and I sat in a parked car at the De Anza Drive-In. Unfortunately, before we could see The Breakup, we would have to sit through an hour and a half of pure agony. Or as I like to call it, The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift. Luckily, the dialouge was brief and predictable, giving Maria and I a chance to vent about the marriage of our old friend.
MARIA: I mean, we talked about getting married. Like what we were gonna wear, who was gonna get married first...all that stuff.
ME: Who was gonna get married first?
MARIA: Well, I was supposed to go before Brenda...so I guess that means...if Brenda was before me, I'm next.
ME: Wow, good job, Ray!
MARIA: Whatever...its just sad that this is how life is gonna be from now on, you know? I mean, I looked up to Brenda. She was like so awesome. And it's just sad that we cant even share our happiness with each other.
ME: Yeah, I know, it's sad. I miss being her friend too. But we dont need her approval to be happy. I mean, if she wants to hold grudges, that's her problem. The way I see it is good friends support each other after something bad has happened. Great friends act as if nothing happened.
As Maria pondered over my words, I turned to the giant screen to see if I could place Nathalie Kelley's accent. I couldnt. So instead, I mentally congratulated myself on being such a good friend. It was Brenda's loss if she wanted to continue harboring onto anger. Maria was a good person who totally didnt deserve to be sad. She was smart, funny, loyal, and she was picking her nose. From the corner of my eye, I saw Maria really going at it. It was gross. It was disgusting. It was weird. How could someone be that comfortable with themselves? Stuck in the car with my oddly confidant nose picking friend, I wondered...how could I pick a nose picker for a friend? How could I be friends with someone who had disgusting habits?
If I was a child, I would totally call Maria out on it, with maybe a finger point and fake gag. But being that I'm a mature and responsible adult, I took the grown-up approach...complete and utter denial. It's just...what do you do when the one person you look up to, lets you down? I know people arent perfect and I know there's that chance of being let down by those we put on a pedestal, but how do you cope?
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