On Friday night I was “cold chillin” at my companion’s friend’s new crash pad. He is on his own after being with one woman for ten years, which is all of his adult life. The friend and I have a lot in common right now, but I was the dumper and he is sort of a dumpee, so I represent the evil, be-boobed side of things. Needless to say, he is not very happy with his current situation; he seems to be crawling through the hell I was crawling through in January.
My companion popped into the bathroom and the friend and I got to talking about food and being a pig.
“I have totally gained weight since I hooked up with my companion,” I said. “He is always feeding me or something.” I have gained five pounds or so but I am trying to watch it since I bought almost a whole new wardrobe in February.
“Well, that’s not such a bad thing to gain weight,” the friend said.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said. “When my mom got cancer, the doctor said it was really good she was overweight.”
“Oh,” I said.
“He said the fact that she was obese is what made her hang on for so long. When you get to a certain stage with cancer, your appetite goes away completely.”
“Hmm,” I said, unhelpfully.
“Yep.”
Later he said something about waking up in the morning by choking on a puddle of your own tears. It was funny, and then I felt like I was going to cry, and then it was funny again. I was kind of glad when Frannie scraped up her knee and I had to go home.
He sounds like a lot of fun!
I had a friend named
SJ who writes her thesis
and doesn’t call me.
Supa is missing you.
Checking in, dammit. Meant to write in earlier, particularly after reading about recent life developments. Hoping all is well.
Concerning this solitary man, it could be worse. Try living through years of intermittent fractious scraps who turn out to be leech-like manipulative psychos. It sucks, almost enough to keep me off women forever, and the steady beat keeps me careful. But I remain optimistic. It ain’t necessarily the end of the world. Key thing for this dude: wallowing in his melancholy isn’t going to get him out of the hole.
Actually, when I read this over again, I kinda see why his girlfriend broke up with him. He sounds like a self-pitying lame-ass, but maybe that’s just my interpretation at a bad time. Anyway….
Oh, the pain, the pain of it all…!
“be-boobed”. Heh!
On the whole weight thing (coming from a “man of noble girth”)I saw a T-shirt online the other day I have to own, stating “Fat people are hard to kidnap”
Makes me glad I have a happy marriage of nine years that I can use to gloat over the single and the lonely. Good thing, too – I can’t afford another ex-wife.
I have to put my ballot in the “whiney lame-ass” box. “Gaining weight’s okay ’cause it means you’ll suffer longer if you get terminal cancer”?
Fuck’s sake.
The pool-of-tears comment reminds me:
One of my creative writing professors once came to a Monday class looking disheveled, and admitted he had passed out on the kitchen floor on Saturday after drinking heavily.
Kicker fact: It was a Monday afternoon class.
Man, that class was great.