One of my best friends George just broke up with his live in 2-year girlfriend. Upon hearing the news I told him I was sorry, he called me a liar and I told him I felt it would be inappropriate to dance a jig on the bar.
To say his ex and I didn’t get along would be like saying the Holocaust was unpleasant for the Jews. I referred to her almost exclusively as “George’s chick” and would constantly ask him in front of her “when are you going to break up with this bitch?” Which at one point caused her to dump a drink on me. There was some tension. Unfortunately, George actually loved this one and at her request he and I started hanging out less and less. Luckily with her gone the dynamic duo are reunited and with me just coming out of a rather serious relationship we can commiserate and get really, really drunk together.
Saturday night George, myself and four other buddies went out to show him what he had been missing from single life. I was determined to get him laid and since I have been having a hall-of-fame month batting in the .750 range with 6 home runs I figured an RBI would look good on my resume too. I explain to him that “tonight your cock is my cock” and then slapped him in the balls because that is the retarded, juvenile slightly homo-erotic game we play. I then tell him to quit crying and get his game face on.
The next four hours are a blur of a dozen or so bars. I hit on every acceptable piece of tail I see and then just point them at George. Noting is taking. He’s still a little too depressed to take full advantage of the soft-balls I’m lobbing at him and we continue to bounce from bar to bar. I keep setting him up and he keeps whiffing. I pull him a side and offer him some inspirational words. Something along the lines of “What’s your fucking deal fag? I’m throwing snatch at you and you’re just sitting the pouting because that whore broke up with you? Guess what? She fucking sucked and the best thing you can do right now is fuck the shit out of some random. You do still like pussy right? Because after you performance tonight I’m starting to wonder.” That seemed to do the trick. He began to perk up. We’re right back in the game. We walk out of the bar at the night takes a horrible turn.
I see a familiar face on the street and turn to grab George but it’s too late he’s seen what I have. His ex, her tits almost falling out of her skimpy hooker top arm in arm with another guy. Their eyes lock and in George’s face I see the hurt, anger and confusion that I know all too well. Fuck. I have many options here but I decide to do what any good friend would do. I stepped back and let George take a swing at the guy.
By the expression on his face you could tell the poor bastard had no idea what was going on all he could be sure of it this was gonna suck. George landed a blow, which knocked the guy into the street where he nearly got hit by a car. This got everybody’s attention and the cries of “Fight!” rang loud in the chaotic night. Suddenly the reality of the situation hit me like George’s fist on an unsuspecting guy in the wrong place at the wrong time. I look around and realize that, just like every other Saturday night on Division there are three occupied cop cars about half a block away. It wouldn’t have been a huge deal but in our possession was a substance that when added to assault, disturbing the peace, and public intoxication equals jail time. I act quickly, grab George and throw him into the first cab I see. He is screaming like a fucking baboon and everyone is trying to console him which is making him angrier and angrier.
We go to another bar I send everyone in and tell George we’re taking a walk. We go back to my apartment and I begin to talk him down. I speak from a deeper wisdom I was unaware I possessed. I drew on my recent experience my friendship with George and my observations of his relationship. All the while exercising the versatility of the word fuck. It was a fucking masterpiece. I was amazed at my self. More importantly though, it worked. George was finally calm and we met up with the guys at the bar.
When I walked in surprise number two of the evening was sitting at the bar. Kelly, a girl from high school. Without getting into too much detail Kelly may have been one of the most unhealthy experiences I have ever had with a girl. While I realize that’s like a alcoholic picking out the worst drink he ever had she will always stand out as a disaster. She approached me and we talked for a while when finally I saw an opening. “You know how many favors you owe me? I’m cashing them all in right now. That’s my buddy George. He’s had a rough night and you’re going to go fuck him.” She looks over and says, “Ok, he’s cute.” and walks toward him. I motion to George to let him what’s going on and leave them alone. My job here is done, no-one could boot this lay-up. Kelly was there with Audrey another girl from high school who just moved to Chicago and essentially immediately started fucking me. She grabs me and tells me she is moving tomorrow. I shrug apathetically but she immediately gets my attention “I’m leaving tomorrow. I need your cock in my mouth tonight.” Now I’m listening. “Alright, I have to go take care of something but we’ll at your apartment in half an hour.” “Who’s we?” “Kelly and I.”
On a night where my only goal is to get my friend laid, I go home with two girls. All this time I thought the gods punished hubris.
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