16 July 2006

2 that guy

so there's this guy, the inevitable friend of a friend, that we kind of know. actually, we don't so much as know him as know random, off-putting tidbits about him.

we know that he came to our mid-may picnic in the park wearing a white linen suit, the cherry handkerchief coordinated to match his cherry shirt. we know that he stood on the opposite end of the blanket tete-a-teting with one of our boyfriend's and accused us of projecting "a wall of unapproachability."

above all, we know that mid-evening he made a costume change, switching from the rather pimpy white linen suit/red shirt combo to an equally sleazy black suit/purple shirt combo. again with a coordinated hankie. again linen. all this to go to a dive bar.

from the friend whose friend he is, we know that he loves women. he doesn't so much want to be loved by a woman as to love women. and he doesn't understand why women don't love him when all he wants to do is love them. we wanted to say dude. the costume change.

he also frequents strip clubs, which leads us to believe he doesn't really know what love is.

this weekend, our friend, whose friend this friend of a friend is, went to this grand birthday party in a huge, ritzy building downtown. it had been talked of as almost the party of the year. very black & white ball. when the bombshell told me that this was the birthday party of the friend of the friend, i snorted. when she said not only was this the birthday bash of the friend of a friend, this was the birthday bash the friend of a friend was throwing for himself, i nearly fell off a bar stool.

i have no desire to be friends with the friend of a friend. between the linen suit, the leering, and the love of women, he's presented himself as quite the lech. but i do have a rather manipulative intrest in him. his life is so desperately begging to be metamorphed into a novella that it would almost be worth putting up with some dirty glances. almost.

he's just so over-the-top, so completely wrong, and so blithely oblivious to it that he becomes mysteriously, ickily fascinating. what with the leering and linen suits and costume changes and audacious birthday bashes. very tom wolfe in a way. i could easily see the friend of a friend writing an 800 page novel on the loins of collegiate girls. which is precisely why, for the rest of his life, he'll always be everyone's friend of a friend.


Les Savy Ferd said...

i am creeped out by everything you included save the strip club part. What!? you say. Doug thinks it isn't creepy to frequent a strip club? No, thats not quite it. But I do know that among a certain stripe of man (i.e. single, insecure, the kind that present an uber-masculine aura, but sometimes the kind of man that is a reasonably nice guy but just needs to work out a few issues) 'strip-clubbing' is seen as perfectly natural. I was practically ostracized by some of my architecture friends when everyone's ideal night on the town in Napoli seemed to be making an appearance at a shady strip club. But it was a double-edged sword you see. If I had gone it would have provided 6 or 10 of the guys with machine gun frequent "Dude, can you believe DOUG is at a strip club!?" And by not going I received "I can't belive you aren't coming out to the strip-club with us, DOUG" from the same 6 or 10 souls. When I related the story to my best friend at the time when she called from London she responded with "Well of course you didn't go to the strip club, you're DOUG." Apparently when talking about me and my conncetion with establishments where young women get paid to take off their clothes you must strongly emphasize my name for good measure.

oline said...

what!? i say. DOUGo thinks it isn't creepy to frequent a strip club? DOUGo?! i'm shocked, DOUGo. and DOUGo, you can bet DOUGo's bottom dollar i'll be sure to strongly emphasize DOUGo's name (DOUGo) in all my strip club convos with DOUGo from here on out.

of course DOUGo, then you can always invoke the magic word ("biiiiirrrrddddssssssss") and have me quaking in my boots so the last laugh will be the DOUGo's.

incidentally, my friend, you must create an appropriately piratey cereal that we can name DOUGo's. in fact, we really need to flesh out your whole pirate persona here. i'm seeing novelistic (and movie tie-in cereal) gold.