Tuesday, November 6, 2007

don't all guys owe me for this?

I looked at last month's cell phone bill this week and discovered that I sent and received 436 text messages in the month of October. So I either text people in my sleep or I am secretly 16. Either way I think it's safe to say I have an addiction.

A couple of weeks ago I was spending a very enjoyable Friday night chez moi. It had been a long week and I had just settled in with take-out Pad Thai, a bottle of red wine, a few blankies and a quality movie on DVD. And my cell phone, of course.

I got a 911 text from a good friend of mine. When I answered, he told me that he was out on a first date which was actually going quite well, when he remembered that he was at a restaurant but his wallet was still on his dresser at home. Nice going, huh? "Kwik," he texted, "can u bring me $150?"


Now I have to admit I'm a bit of a sucker for people who find themselves in sudden and urgent need of cash. When one of my friends was backpacking through Europe and some guy chloroformed him and stole absolutely everything he owned, I wired him cash to eat and get a new passport and clothes. I have a bunch of those kind of stories.

I really didn't mind driving up to the restaurant, getting the waiter to call over my buddy and slipping him the cash. In fact, it was all pretty amusing. The only crappy thing was that my friend apparently doesn't take his dates out to places that are actually in the city. Perhaps I missed the memo that the suburbs are the new hot place for a first date. I had to drive out to some restaurant that was so far out of the city it could very well have been the place where Jesus lost his sandals.

At any rate, I just discovered today that said date (which I think I can safely say I rescued from certain disaster) turned into not just a good first date, but a 34-hour first date. Yes, 34 hours. Although my friend is being somewhat discreet (at least with me, maybe because I'm not a boy), I think we can safely assume that he got lucky in some way, shape or form.

So how do guys express their gratitude when one aids and abets the other in the quest to score? I'm not up on the etiquette here, but I feel I should be thanked, no?



Jon said...

In general, guy favors are payable either in beer, or in more or less equal favors in the future.

In this case, since you both saved him from huge embarrassment AND helped get him laid, he can either buy you a small brewery or singlehandedly pack the truck every time you move for the rest of your life.

complain away said...

I was thinking that I should get back what I gave up, which is some form of relaxation. But that kind of logic is a girl's way of thinking.

Beer is way better than a day at the spa. Especially when it comes in the form of a small brewery. Good thinking.

Emory said...

I with Jon on this one.

Oh, I need some 'get out of trouble fast' fun tickets.

Please mail to;

Gentlemen in Reduced Circumstances
PO Box 666
Raleigh, NC 27560

*tip thong only hold so much*