Losing the War

It all hit me while I was at a baseball game with my best friend Joe (Go Rockies!) and I realized I was on a double date. See, there was Joe and his girlfriend Linda and then there was me and a man named Robert whom I just met because he happens to have seat RR 24, which is right next to my seat RR 25. Not even good seats. Hmm, isn’t this fun?! Robert thinks so, but he doesn’t realize that he’s my date or that I’ve been double dating with my best friend for about four months now, without realizing it. I think it’s getting kind of pathetic, that and it pisses me off
See, Joe and I have been friends since our freshman years in college. We’d play old school Mario Brothers games, the drinking version. We could make anything fun with a little beer; ok a lot of beer. We were always pretty honest with ourselves, we didn’t pretend that ‘oh, we’re playing drinking games so I guess I have to get wasted’ we were pretty much shameless about our intentions. We’d maybe start the night ‘You passed another level, drink!’ but after a short while, it’d be, ‘Mario jumped again, the little bastard, drink!’ The next day one of us would wake up in time to yell, “Dude, you’ve got a calc test in 10 minutes!”
The two of us worked really well as friends because we had the kind of relationship where there was no work involved, we just hung out and didn’t ever have to deal with that awkward “what should we do next?” thing that always happens with people you don’t know well enough. Our friends would tell us we were so close that when we bickered we sounded like an old married couple. In fact that was part of the way we worked. Heck, I think fighting is a good thing, it means you’re so comfortable with each other you know an argument isn’t going to mess things up in the long run.
We were really good at being friends, single friends. “Bachelor pride” we’d yell at each other when one of us would return from a lousy date, both of us somewhat relieved that the date failed and no woman would come between us. There’s something unique about the relationship that forms between two single guys, with no girlfriends to get in the way. When it’s just two single guys your allegiances are to each other without a doubt, there’s no need to prioritize. i.e. Your friend’s frickin’ girlfriend doesn’t become more important than you, because… she doesn’t exist.
That was far too simple for Joe and I. Things were (apparently) way too cool between us because Joe needed something more. And as tends to happen to guys in their twenties Joe quenched his thirst for more with either a Corvette or a woman, I’ll let you guess which one, keeping in mind Joe majored in philosophy, and the job market for deep thinkers is surprisingly small.
Enter… Linda. The brand new, blue eyed 5’7” 120 pound “Corvette” Joe found to satisfy the void in his life was and unfortunately still is Linda. According to Joe, Linda’s just great, she’s so pretty and smart and witty and don’t you just love the way her cute little dimples show up when she’s in a sassy mood. I don’t even know what some of that crap means, but I know it makes me resentful. Seriously, this is the kind of crap I have to hear about when Joe and I occasionally hang out woman-free. Usually the only reason that happens is because Linda’s out of town or something. It’s bad enough that Linda steals all his time to begin with, but then even when she’s not there I can tell he actually would rather be with her. He’s always mentioning how those flowers remind him of this one dress she has or how yellow legal pads remind him of the time the two of them blah blah blah something cute and romantic. Sometimes he notices that these things bother me and so he stifles himself, but that’s almost worse because then I feel like he’s trying to hide something from me to protect me or something, and frankly I am plenty aware of what’s going on and trying to hide it from me is only going to make me more pissed off. But how the hell am I supposed to fight it? I can’t try to tear them apart. I’ve thought of countless delightfully malicious ways of breaking them up, but I guess I’m just too damn nice to carry through. That and, the real bummer is that I realize that she’s good for him; and I hate that fact. I also wish he’d realize that he can have both of us, this isn’t a battle between Linda and me, he doesn’t have to choose sides. I mean, that’s my only chance, I can’t compete with someone who’ll go to bed with him; I just don’t have the necessary skills or anatomy.
So to make the whole thing worse, one day, Joe tells me he’s in love. This makes my day, I’m really happy for him. That’s what I tell him. My gut (and my gut knows what’s going on better than me most of the time) reaction is to yell “traitor!” and stab him in the eye with a pen. But then I remember how happy I am for him and I’m no felon, so I resort to fantasizing about kicking his ass. The truth is that guys; yeah we do this a lot. Especially when we have deep seeded hidden resentment down in the bowels of our soul.
In fact, when you’ve got deep seeded, hidden resentment down in the bowels of your soul (I have this) kicking the target of your resentment’s ass in your imagination is a pretty common occurrence. I guess it’s some sort of macho guy thing. Actually, it’s better than that, it’s a self-righteous macho guy thing because the way it always plays out in my head is he swings first for some unknown, highly unlikely reason, and then I proceed to thrash him soundly, in self-defense and somehow for the good of the nation (I told you it was self-righteous). Then he apologizes for being such an asshole about the Linda thing, tells me it’s over between the two of them and then Joe and I ride off into the sunset: in the most heterosexual macho-guy way possible, that is. Back to reality and I haven’t even worked up the balls to talk to Joe about the “deep seeded hidden resentment down in the bowels of my soul” much less the nerve to kick his ass for no good reason. I think I prefer to continue wallowing in my own contempt.
Ooh, and here’s a good reason to do that:
So I call up Joe to see what’s up, he tells me that he and Linda are going to hang out and watch “My Best Friend’s Wedding” a date movie if ever there was one. He pauses, hoping I’ll invite him to something I already had planned, then tells me he guesses it’s “cool” if I want to come over and watch it with them. Yeah Joe, that sounds like a great idea, I’ll sit next to you and Linda holding each other on the couch and I’ll listen to the two of you making cooing noises at all the saccharine sweet romantic moments in the movie, and then when the two of you decide to start making out at the end of the movie, maybe I’ll just whip it out and start masturbating, so I don’t feel awkward about not having a date. Yeah, it’ll be perfect. You know, half the problem is movies like “My Best Friends Wedding.” They always end freaking’ happy. Julia Roberts gets the guy and whatever and life is peachy and triumphant movie music plays loudly as the cameras spin around the new couple closing in for their first kiss.
So, instead, I go to the video store and ask the clerk, “Do you have any love story movies that end unhappily? Like with the girl getting decapitated by a train or the guy getting his face caught in a blender accident and the girl dumping him for Tom Cruise or somebody because “She just can’t stop vomiting at the sight of him.” The clerk gives me an uncertain look like I have asked for a date with her mother and hands me a huge book with lists of different types of movies, but sure enough, there is no category, “Romantic comedies that end with the happy couple getting mauled by several angry bulls.” So like the self-destructive boob I am, rather than dealing with anything, I go home and drink alone, a warning sign of alcoholism for those of you who are keeping track. And sadly, That’s actually not such a bad idea, if I became an alcoholic at least I’d have a good excuse to think that life sucks, because I’m painfully aware that “my best friend has a girlfriend” is a pretty worthless one.
More news about the happy couple: Joe tells me that he thinks he’s going to ask Linda to marry him. Uuuhhh, how do I handle that one!? My gut reaction is again to stab him or at least to try and talk him out of it, ‘Joe are you sure? You guys have only been going out, what 8 months now? Do you seriously want to settle down already?’ But, again I stifle myself and I act surprised and touched that he’s telling me beforehand. And since Joe is still my best friend, I give him a great pep talk so good that I was surprised by how convincing I was. At least at their wedding I can take credit for helping him work up the nerve to ask her. Maybe one of the bride’s maids will think it’s awfully sweet that I did that for them and maybe she and I can have meaningless sex after the reception. At least I have that to look forward to. Wow, even sex doesn’t look so good anymore, I think I’m letting Joe and Linda have a little too much of an effect on me.
Hold on, cause here’s the shocker: SHE SAID NO! Linda rejected Joe! But, she didn’t just say, “No Joe, I don’t want to marry you, let’s give it more time.” She ended it. Joe got down on one knee in a restaurant, popped open a ring case and had his heart ripped from his chest and tossed on the floor like a cigarette butt. Apparently Joe and Linda weren’t communicating very well about where the relationship was headed, long story short; Joe and Linda are no more. And he’s devastated, I’ve never seen him more depressed or in need of a shoulder to cry on, literally. As it turns out, I am that shoulder. I don’t know if I know how though. It would be a lot easier to console him if it didn’t seem like the only reason he’s even spoken to me in the past two months is to give me some news about him and Linda. In fact, he’s pretty much been a prick about the whole damn thing. What kind of jerkoff completely abandons his best friend for a woman? He’s been a total asshole. But when you think about it, honestly, pretty much any jerkoff that’s male would do that, right? Joe’s still a bit of a bastard though. I know it will be a lot easier to forgive him than it should be because there’s a big part of me that’s really glad to have him back. The situation still generally sucks though. Linda put this big distance between Joe and I so now we are kind of weird, even if we’d rather not be. I guess the best thing I can do for now is grab the twelve-pack in my fridge, find Super Mario 3, and go over to Joe’s place. The man needs to get drunk, and I’m the guy to do it. Even if I’m not completely sure how to be Joe’s friend right now, I’ve gotta start somewhere.