Hey, listen. You’re never going to believe this. I’m stuck on a fucking roller coaster! Seriously… a FUCKING rollercoaster. We’ve been stranded for 2 hours or so, and I’m starting to get nervous/bored. We’re not upside down or anything, luckily, but this is becoming a real issue. I know I was supposed to meet you at the front gate a while ago, but you have to believe me. You can’t make this shit up. I really kind of hope you’re one of the many people watching from the ground there, and will be waiting for me when I get down.
If it means anything, despite the chafing from the restrainer, I feel like I’m really in control of this whole ordeal. A lot of people are crying still, yeah, but I feel like if I wasn’t here to calm everyone down, there’d be mass hysteria. I imagine this is exactly how that pilot must have felt while directing people to life boats after landing his 747 in the Hudson. Pride. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen that movie “What Dreams May Come” with Robin Williams, but I am definitely Cuba Gooding Jr. right now. God I love me some Cuba…
Anyway, give me a call when you can. I’m going to need some comforting when I get down from this thing. I can see three dippin’ dots stands from here, and even though you always say “That’s how the devil would eat ice cream Joe…”, I’m going buck WILD on them… as in, a different flavor at each stand. Click.
“Hey, I’m sorry I judged your use of white bread when you made me a turkey sandwich. I shouldn’t have complained when you invited me over to make me a dinner, but you really need to try out sandwiches with more diverse types of bread. Maybe start with a turkey sandwich on a croisant first, cause it’s kinda like bread anyway, then progressively get a little more adventurous.
Try a ham and munster on an english muffin. Then try it on a blueberry muffin. Make an egg salad sandwich between a pair of cookies. A falafel wrapped in a pancake. Once you start to open yourself to the possibilities, I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised at how much your mind will be blown.
Anyways, I’m still at the bar watching the hockey game. We’re getting blown out so I’ll probably be really drunk later and won’t be able to express this point as clearly in person. See ya afterwards.”
I give up. Where are you. We started this game of “Hide and Seek” over a half hour ago. My hands are cold, my feet are fucked, and I don’t know where I am. You took me to the beach, blindfolded me, walked me to the water and told me to count to 50. Well I counted to 50, took the blindfold off, followed your footsteps back to the sand dunes, then nothing… The sand dunes go 10 miles in each direction, at least. Am I supposed to pick a direction and just follow them? Are you kidding me right now? We’re not even supposed to be ON the fucking sand dunes. There are signs posted everywhere.
I don’t know what you planned on accomplishing by doing this, but I’m walking towards the boardwalk, going to grab a funnel cake or something, then I’ll meet you back at the car. If this is your idea of a fun 2nd date, then maybe we should talk. First you lose my Helly Hansen jacket, then you pull this episode. Unbelievable…
“Please listen to this one, because I feel like you’re just deleting all of these. I’m calling you as a concerned friend this time, not an ex-fling or whatever it was. You’re not a vampire. You’re seriously and truthfully NOT a vampire. I’m all about you expressing yourself artistically, but when you start deferring student loans so you can pay for ‘elongated canine implants’, you have to take a step back.
The ‘Vampyr’ tattoo across your chest is one thing. I actually really like it. Wasn’t my favorite movie, but who am I to judge. I myself wanted to get ‘Schindler’s List’ tattooed across my back at one point. All black letters with a red apostrophe. How fucking awesome would that have been? It would have been the best decision I’ve ever made for maybe 2 years. After that I’d realize that I have the name of a movie based on a greedy businessman that helped some jews escape the gas permanently etched on my person for the rest of my life. I’m not saying you didn’t think it through, it’s just a little…well…
Listen. When we were at the Renaissance Fair, and you asked where we should go first, and I sarcastically said ‘Well I’m sure you want to go straight for the juggler…’, I crossed a line.
Your sister keeps calling me concerned. Just let us know you’re ok.”
“Hey, did you take off? I came back from the bathroom and saw your towel and sandals were gone. I know you said something about band practice but I wasn’t sure.
Whatever anyway, I brought you back a swirl cone. That’s chocolate AND vanilla cause I didn’t know which one you liked better. Thought it might make up for getting sand in your lemonade.
Jim and Jenny both have lactose intolerance, it’s probably genetic or whatever, and I can’t eat two of these without looking like a complete asshole so just meet us back where you left us.
We’re thinking of burying Jim and making him look like a mermaid.
“Seriously? You’re going to do this to me at the Botanical Gardens? We took the same car here, so I don’t know what you think storming off and creating a big scene is going to accomplish. You know I hate your mother and everything she stands for. I’m sorry I made a comment during the “Thain Family Forest” dedication, but everyone has a tipping point. You can’t say “My mother is the best cook in the world” one minute, then talk about how the chicken parm you had from Petrillo’s was “OMG the best thing EVER”. Your mom is a wonderful cook, but pick a side. I did.
Listen, my cell is about to die, so PLEASE just meet me at the car. They stamped our hand, so we can get back in, but I’m not going to walk around this place like an idiot for the next few hours looking for you. Just not happening.”
“I’ve been thinking for a while how miserable I’ve been and I think I’ve finally figured out that it’s because I’m no longer serious about being serious. You may think this is a joke right now because I’ve been really funny lately, but I’m not laughing or horsing around anymore. Being serious is pretty serious to me and I don’t think I can play the clown much longer.
“I’m sorry I embarrassed you the other night at the corner deli. How was I supposed to react. The six pack of beer fell through the bottom of the thing, er, the case. You’d think something with a handle on it would be able to go a block without the glue coming undone. So I had to fucking chew out the owner while you were there looking at me like I was the idiot. Not my fault that owner was a piece of shit and the cardboard had water damage.
Your shoes may have gotten wet, but my shoes AND pants are fucked. They’re my white jeans. Ain’t no way I’m getting that shit out. They’re in the goddamn garbage now.
Maybe I didn’t have to scream so loud, but I did have to get my point across. And so what we can’t go there any more? They sell bullshit.
Call me back. I’m downstairs and don’t know which fucking buzzer to press.”
“Hey it’s me. I know I just left your house, but it was real cool of you to come back out and help me jump start my truck, despite that small argument we had. It’s not that I don’t know how to do it, it’s just been awhile is all… Excuse me for not knowing the inside of a 96’ Ford Focus is powder-coated.
But seriously, I don’t want to just throw away everything we’ve been working on these past twelve days. I hate to keep coming back to this, and you say it’s not a big deal and to drop it, but I feel like you’re still hung up on the dreamcatcher I bought you the other day at that farmers market. A sweet guy goes and buys you a dreamcatcher, and all of a sudden you become all insecure about shit? How am I supposed to ignore the fact that you have bad dreams and writhe around in shear panic when you’re not in your own bed? Maybe the dreamcatcher can help in some small way, and prevent you from screaming like an ensnared jackal. Seriously? 34 years old and you still have night terrors?
“Hi. So, um, I just wanted to apologize for last week. I wasn’t aware you were allergic to peanuts.
I couldn’t quite understand you in the ambulance, but I know they weren’t kind, so I’m sorry for making you so angry. If the swelling in your throat has gone down, can you please call me back? I’ll take a text or whatever.
And one other thing, I wasn’t sure what kind of food to feed your dog, but whatever I’m feeding him now, he’s definitely having digestion problems.
