i met an old friend of mine from the alma mater the other day. he’s one of the most brilliantly beautiful and funny people i have ever known. the girls simply loved him. so did the guys, the professors, the campus dogs, the cook and the gurkha.
this young man was almost a miracle. he was an inspired student, speaker, actor, sportsman, woo-er of women and wow-er of men. and he was all this despite his squeaky clean nose. without experiments with dirty language or dirty politics, and without abusing liquor, cough syrup, iodex sandwiches or any number of other such dubious substances. he even bathed, shaved, changed and smelled good every single day. he literally glittered among the grubby liberalists and shone against the conservative misfits.
then he leaned up at the bar next to me last week, “wassup!?”
this word is currently the bane of my life as well as the reason i haven’t been posting lately. i hate it from the pit of my anus. it makes my life flash past in front of my eyes and disappear into a haze. it clearly expects a more stimulating response than, ‘you know my cat, he was supervising the sunbeams again this morning.’ wassup leaves me speechless these days.
“nothing to write home about”, i said, “how’s tricks with you?”.
him: “great, great, things are perfect.”
me: “work good?”
him: “yeah, the md came by the other day blah blah blah drink with the client blah blah blah won another whopping business blah blah promoted blah blah flying out to greece for that conference blah blah blah board meeting at goa blah blah lovely people blah blah blah blah blah…”
me: “fun, is it?”
him: “yeah, it’s perfect.”
me: “what else's up with you?”
him: “great. bought a house a couple of years back. just got back from a vacation. and, we're getting a puppy this weekend!”
me: “and how’s the wife doing?”
him: “oh she’s fantastic, dude. marriage is just perfect.”
me: “tell me, do you um...fart occasionally?”
him: “say what?”
me: “you know, does your ass sometimes speak out of turn?”
him: “ha ha, funny girl. not unless i want it to.”
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