You Gotta Fight For Your Rights.
It was our second date. I was cracking her up (of course I was) and she seemed to be having a good time. The oysters were delicious (and as it would much later turn out, completely toxic.)
"Awhahahaa!" She laughed, like a beautiful silver piccolo, "Heehahahah!"
Small birds flittered about, a butterfly landed on her hand. "Tralalahahahaha!"
She looked into my eyes, her hair framing her lovely face, her lips like two sweet milk-chocolate-flavored lip-shaped chocolates.
"You know, Ben," yes?
"I think you're funny," oh, tell me more?
"And I'm glad we're friends."
What?
"...friends...ends...ends..."
Wait, what?
"f.r.r.i.i.e.e.n.n.d.d.s.s.s.s.s.s..."
The room began spinning around me, and the din of the restaurant faded out with the light.
When I awoke, I was in an empty courtroom. On the wall in front of me was a giant emblem. It was of a man and a woman standing a few feet apart. Above them it said "FRIENDSHIP". Below it read "GOOD LISTENING & SIDE-HUGS."
Where in the..
From nowhere a voice trumpeted, "ALL RISE OK? THE COURT IS IN SESSION NOW, ALRIGHT?"
My date walked in with a judge's robe and, somewhat sitcomically I thought, a wig.
"Hi Ben! How's it goin? Gone on any dates lately? Any lady-interests? Ooo! Tee hee."
I tried to stand but found that I was shackled, wrist to ankles. The best I could manage was an apey half-stoop.
"Ah.. Lacey? What... What's going on here?"
"Oh, Ben, nothing's going on! I just, you know, I just got out of a pretty serious relationship and I... well, you know?"
No.. It can't be, I'm hallucinating!
But I wasn't.
I knew exactly where I was now. I was on trial. For a crime I did not commit. The charge: Being a guy. The verdict: Friend Jail.
I had heard about friend jail, but I didn't think it could happen to me. My friend Zane wrote me this letter from friend jail once:
Dammit! I never had the heart to tell him: There is no Mohammed and there is no way out of Friend Jail!
I began to fear for my (love) life.
"Hey? Are you ok? I don't like to see my friends upset." My date had noticed my look of panic.
What to say... I thought, and I re-thought, but then, I thought, "Screw thinking." A situation like this called for the big guns: Honesty and Begging.
"I don't want to be in friend jail! Let me keep flirting with you! I don't want to know about other guys you're thinking of dating! I know you just got out of a serious relationship, but that's sort of irrelevant, because as soon as we make out I feel confident that you will find my chemical signature to be very enticing! We will make out one day! I refuse to shake your hand!!!"
"Oh, Benny Buddy, I don't know what you're talking about! Now, I gotta go organize my CDs, so, see you around, mk?"
She extended her hand.
"NO!" I cried, "nnnnnnn-NO!" I lunged for her lips but the shackels yanked me back to the ground.
She looked hurt, "You're being really strange. Don't you want to be my friend?"
I gritted my teeth and shook my head back and forth. "This is not happening to me. This is not happening to me!"
But it had happened to me.
To this day I still hear echo of the cold steel door slamming shut, "You're such a great guy!"
"Awhahahaa!" She laughed, like a beautiful silver piccolo, "Heehahahah!"
Small birds flittered about, a butterfly landed on her hand. "Tralalahahahaha!"
She looked into my eyes, her hair framing her lovely face, her lips like two sweet milk-chocolate-flavored lip-shaped chocolates.
"You know, Ben," yes?
"I think you're funny," oh, tell me more?
"And I'm glad we're friends."
What?
"...friends...ends...ends..."
Wait, what?
"f.r.r.i.i.e.e.n.n.d.d.s.s.s.s.s.s..."
The room began spinning around me, and the din of the restaurant faded out with the light.
When I awoke, I was in an empty courtroom. On the wall in front of me was a giant emblem. It was of a man and a woman standing a few feet apart. Above them it said "FRIENDSHIP". Below it read "GOOD LISTENING & SIDE-HUGS."
Where in the..
From nowhere a voice trumpeted, "ALL RISE OK? THE COURT IS IN SESSION NOW, ALRIGHT?"
My date walked in with a judge's robe and, somewhat sitcomically I thought, a wig.
"Hi Ben! How's it goin? Gone on any dates lately? Any lady-interests? Ooo! Tee hee."
I tried to stand but found that I was shackled, wrist to ankles. The best I could manage was an apey half-stoop.
"Ah.. Lacey? What... What's going on here?"
"Oh, Ben, nothing's going on! I just, you know, I just got out of a pretty serious relationship and I... well, you know?"
No.. It can't be, I'm hallucinating!
But I wasn't.
I knew exactly where I was now. I was on trial. For a crime I did not commit. The charge: Being a guy. The verdict: Friend Jail.
I had heard about friend jail, but I didn't think it could happen to me. My friend Zane wrote me this letter from friend jail once:
Hey Joey,
Jennifer came by again today! She's so sweet, she visits me at least twice a month. She said she was dating a really nice guy. I'm happy for her. She really deserves that. I mean, I thought things would work out between us, but, you know some people are meant to have intense and rewarding physio-emotional experiences, and others are meant for more real friendship. Oh, since I've been here in friend jail I converted to Islam. I have been praying to Mohammed to show me the way out of Friend Jail.
Assaslamama lakeum, my brother,
-Zane
Dammit! I never had the heart to tell him: There is no Mohammed and there is no way out of Friend Jail!
I began to fear for my (love) life.
"Hey? Are you ok? I don't like to see my friends upset." My date had noticed my look of panic.
What to say... I thought, and I re-thought, but then, I thought, "Screw thinking." A situation like this called for the big guns: Honesty and Begging.
"I don't want to be in friend jail! Let me keep flirting with you! I don't want to know about other guys you're thinking of dating! I know you just got out of a serious relationship, but that's sort of irrelevant, because as soon as we make out I feel confident that you will find my chemical signature to be very enticing! We will make out one day! I refuse to shake your hand!!!"
"Oh, Benny Buddy, I don't know what you're talking about! Now, I gotta go organize my CDs, so, see you around, mk?"
She extended her hand.
"NO!" I cried, "nnnnnnn-NO!" I lunged for her lips but the shackels yanked me back to the ground.
She looked hurt, "You're being really strange. Don't you want to be my friend?"
I gritted my teeth and shook my head back and forth. "This is not happening to me. This is not happening to me!"
But it had happened to me.
To this day I still hear echo of the cold steel door slamming shut, "You're such a great guy!"
posted by bgeorge77 at 7:55 PM
11 Comments:
I like it!
You like that I'm in friend jail? So cruel!
I bet you want me to not have TV here in friend jail either, "cause friend jail is about punishment!"
Bah.
You know what the worst thing about friend jail is? It's that this girl "Lacey" has decided that in the ranking of her suitors, I am #2... to no one in particular.
I feel like the young Forrest Gump getting on the bus, "Seat's taykun!" Except that there's no Jen-nay to say, "You can sit next to me, little retarded boy with a heart of gold."
She's got the upper hand now, so all you can do is try and grab your breast when you're drunk. If she's a real friend she'll forgive you and if she likes it then you get to do it!
Did I say your? I mean his.Oh, I mean they're.No, gosh, sorry, I meant my.HAHA! I meant your, your.Of course. No wait,
It turned out she DID in fact like me grabbing on my own breast/chest.
Damn.
Hot damn.
Never have I ever heard someone discuss or write on something so tragically beautiful and hopelessly spot-on detailing the horrors of the travels to and the eternal torture that is "Friend Jail". I stand in solidarity with you as we cry out, "FREE US NOW!!"
And besides that -- you guys are just damn good writers....
what's wrong with sidehugs?
YOU GET BACK IN YOUR CAGE T-DIDDY! BACK IN YOUR CAGE!
lol
Read their sample chapter at www.marriable.com called "Why Being Just Friends Is a Waste of Time."
You'll dig it.
This was the most beautiful thing I've ever read in my life.
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