Out with the Serrogate
Last week was filled with festivities, times of glee and sorrow, hearing ourselves get fatter, mesmorized focus on football and "A Christmas Story", and connecting with friends from high school that have undoubtedly become more arrogant and monster-faced since 7th grade. It is a time of year when people who actually have jobs set aside time to be even more lazy and take more time off work to hang and, with no question, eat whatever they want because it's the holidays and will get that shiny new gym membership after the first of the year (which by the way, if you go to the gym in Jaunary, expect to be pissed off by the people that don't know what the hell they're doing and take up two treadmills. Yes, two).
The free time of these non-working dimwits can be nice because I get to see some of my friends that I don't get to see that often. Ger, who has been previously introduced in this blog as my "partner whom I share a serrogate mother with", was in town and wanted to meet up. I met with Ger and Fouella at Mayfair on the 24th (HIS idea, not mine. Btw Mayfair blows around Xmas shopping time). We sat down, and immediately Ger ran to the bathroom. He returns with a confused and humble look on his face. I asked him what the problem was, maybe a false alarm or a splash-up incident. He cleared his throat, adjusted his belt, and asked, "So, are there diapers that you can flush?"
Silence. My thought: 'The guy I'm with just left a diaper in the men's bathroom.' Hurry, think of something!
I answered, "Uh, hey! I got a new watch last week. It's awesome! Want to see it?"
My tangent did nothing.
He said, "No, I want to get to the bottom of this. There's a pair of diapers in the toliet and someone tried to flush it down."
I didn't know what to say. Why would I have the answer to this? First I thought they were his diapers. Now he's claiming they're "someone else's." I struggled to find the right thing to say. Who would know something like that? Wikipedia would! I'll suggest that. Wait, he'll never fall for that. Well, lets try. Besides, he's kind of a dumbass anyways.
"Try Wikipedia. They always have the right answers."
He sits and starts typing.
He said, "Nope, Wikipedia doesn't know anything about disposable diapers."
He ACTUALLY looked it up. I need new friends.
Fouella was lightly laughing in the corner, typing away on her medical forms and munching on a cookie. The cookie looked delicious, crumbling all over the table and making their way to my fingers. We both looked at eachother with a Lion's wit for carnivous activity, and blurted out at the same time, "We need to eat soon!" She said, "Jinx!"
I replied, "Get the fuck outta here with that middle school shit. So you wear diapers too?"
No answer. Immediately started packing her stuff up.
I need new friends.
On our arrival at the Cheescake Factory, Fouella was commenting on her hunger for any food. She said, "I'm soooooo hungry! I've realized lately that anything I put in my mouth doesn't want to come out."
Ger winked at me.
AWKWARD.
My appetite was limited to water and bread. Maybe we shouldn't eat out together anymore.
Or go anywhere in public together anymore.
Sigh...weirdos.
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