Wednesday, July 20, 2005

An old friend called me over the weekend and though a few of my coworkers are certain that I never get worked up over anything, if they would have heard our my conversation with a friend from so long ago they certainly would have changed their tune.

I have so many crazy stories, I told him. I mean, I have stories that I don't expect you to believe because that's literally just how crazy they are. And he chuckled and said, I remember when you called me and told me you were taking time off school to go chase some crazy sport. And I remember when the phone rang and you told me that you were going to Alaska to fish for salmon. And last summer you had some girl in New York and you were flying around chasing each other. Really, if I'll take anyones' story on faith I think it would be yours. But I have a pretty good…..

I cut him off and launched into a tirade about how completely insane things can be. I have so much to tell. But I thought I would start with something he could get the humor of and I asked him if he remembered what I told him last summer about how I was in between houses for a week and a nice friend of a friend invited me to stay with him. And how this girl I had met weeks before (you might remember her as the TMG) who, just by some cosmic coincidence, happened to be the ex-girlfriend of the guy I was staying with. And how, as luck would have it, decided that the night to hook up with me would be the night that I moved in with her ex. And how she kinda played me but I didn't care cuz it was fun to be played a little and how the guy never really found out until months later when he could care less.

But he had heard all of that before. Of course he had, but if we could see the bottom of the rabbit hole then no one would have written a story about it. Turns out one of the 3 girls I would have dated in the Sorority where I worked (ya guys, I worked in a fricking sorority even though it seems so far away now and I think I called her Ghana girl) told me about her older boyfriend who graduated in December. What are the odds that it would be the same guy I lived with last summer and what would be the odds that she would get some job working for a surfing magazine near LA and what are the odds that she would call me the afternoon before I was headed to the Playboy mansion and invite herself to come along I mean seriously Jason what the fuck are the odds of me hanging out in the backyard of the fucking playboy mansion with a beautiful blonde girl from Virginia who's boyfriend's ex-girlfriend was on the first few posts of this here very blog? I can't make this shit up. I can't possibly come up with this stuff because it's really that ridiculous. And this is just the tip of the iceberg that is my summer. The Playboy mansion and celebrities and lust and desire and fancy cars and betrayal and beautiful people. What story could possibly top that one?

The line was silent for a second. "I'm engaged," he said. Mother fucker.

1 Comments:

Blogger Mo said...

yup, id say getting married is one hell of a story.

but maybe not better than the getting shot story? or maybe the ones from the playboy mansion?

please, do tell us you have some stories to trump his, right?

3:01 PM  

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