Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Frank, the Neighbor

Kate and I have been best friends since we met in college several years ago. She sat in front of me in Intro to Public Relations and only ignored me on the days that I wore my hair differently and she “didn’t recognize” me. Right, cause I look like a different person when my hair is in a ponytail.

Flash-forward to 2010. We’ve both lived in New York for a good amount of years. After college, Kate holed up in her tuna can-sized apartment in Manhattan while my boyfriend and I decided on the much cheaper (and still expensive as all hell) basement apartment in Brooklyn. After four years, she still has no idea which subway to take to my place, but Kate and I have remained good friends, despite our differences. The main difference you ask? My answer would probably be “weight”…or something equally superficial. But if you asked Kate, I’d put money on her answer: MARRIAGE.

You see, my long-time boyfriend is now my husband and even though she was a stunning addition to our August nuptials, Kate is now convinced we no longer live on the same planet. In an effort to convince her of my undying loyalty, even if times of, ahem, marriage, my husband and I took the correct subway to Kate’s place last weekend for a lovely double date…with Kate and her, uh, gay neighbor.

“I have a date tonight,” Kate typed to me over Gchat one day.

“Of course you do,” I replied, clearly not surprised. Kate goes on more dates than The Bachelor during the first 5 episodes of the season.

“Will you and Dave puhleeeeeeease come on the date with me? We can do a super fun double date. Isn’t that what married people do?”

“That’s exactly what married people do, Kate. See you tonight.”

Dave and I arrive to Kate’s tuna can to find that she’s already downed 2 glasses of wine. When you weigh approximately 8 pounds, two glasses of wine is the same as 20 for someone with a normal-sized bigger body.

“You know how I get nervous,” Kate lies. “Just be glad it was wine this time and not SoCo.”

The gay neighbor (Kate’s date) arrives. He seems nice enough, though he’s shorter than my 45 pound dog and just as hairy. Kate introduces us and we all move to the living room to enjoy superficial conversation and (more importantly) some cocktails.

And then it happens.

While telling us about his fantastic lawyer job for the 18th consecutive minute, the date (let’s call him Frank) begins carefully removing his shoes. Mind you, we are in Kate’s mid-town apartment, not a mosque in Rome. Once he’s barefoot in front of his first date and her married counterparts, Frank sits on the couch. Indian-style. We’re talking sitting around a campfire singing Kumbaya Indian-style. Now, if a double date isn’t awkward enough, he has to go and do that.

“Nice socks,” quips Dave.

“Oh! Thanks. I got them while I was in Paris this summer.”

That explains why there are French baguettes all over them.

“Nice, did you go for work or play?” I ask, trying to look at his face, not the socks.

“Play. I love to play.”

This is going to be a long night.

Later, we feast on homemade cookies baked by, yep you guessed it, Frank. The play loving, Indian-style sitting, hairy, short neighbor is also a pastry chef.

The rest of the night is kind of a blur but here are the highlights:

• After consuming 6 cookies, Frank farted on the couch while he was sitting Indian-style. The fart shot out through the hole where his legs were crossed over each other.

• Kate asked her lawyer date to recite all the ammendements AND the presidents in chronological order. When he couldn’t remember George Bush (yes, the last president) Kate groaned and chugged her wine.

• Dave left to “get more wine” and didn’t come back. I found him at the bar around the corner on my way out. He has a foot phobia, so I let it slide.

• Frank sneezed and snot adhered itself to his cheek and chin. Kate didn’t make it awkward when she grabbed a tissue and wiped it herself.

Finally, it’s time to leave. I decide to leave after Frank, so he can’t put the moves on Kate. He puts on his shoes and moves toward the door. Kate opens it and thanks him for the cookies and the thrilling conversation.

“Thanks for having me over, Kate.”

“Thanks for coming…bye!” Kate has the tendency to, uh, be awkward in awkward situations. Like extremely awkward.

For a second, it looks like he’s moving in for the kiss. I can’t believe it. I’m standing right here! Here comes Kate and the awkwardness again…

“Um, I will talk to you later, Frank. Bye!” She shuts the door. On his face. Like literally.

She turns to me. “Is he gay?” she asks.

I look down at my left hand. Thank God for marriage.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

A Dream Come True

My very good friend Blake from college called me today to say he's looking for jobs in New York and plans to move here after the new year. I have been in love with him since freshman year, so I wrote him a story to celebrate his wonderful news...

It's a blistering cold snowy day in Manhattan and Kate is inside her tuna can-sized apartment, cleaning poop off her dog Penelope's butt for the thousandth time. Suddenly, the doorbell rings. Kate looks through the peephole and sees two sets of eyeballs. "It must be a two-headed monster!" she shrieks, but opens the door to find a tall toe-headed man and a mutt who resembles a human standing in the doorway. "Oh, phew, it's only Blake and Oliver!"

"SURPRISE! We have traveled from afar, 19 hours, to see you and Penelope!" Blake says.

"19 hours? From Texas?" Kate asks.

"Well, we missed our flight then got on the wrong subway at Grand Central Station, then a bum stole my wallet and sodomized Oliver," Blake explains as he begins to unload his 52 suitcases full of Apple products and designer jeans into the tight apartment hallway. "But we're here to stay; one big happy family; together forever!" he screeches as he hugs Kate and Penelope. Kate starts choking from strangulation.

Over the next few weeks, the precious family spends their days strolling through Central Park, shopping for housewares at Bergdorf's, and re-decorating Kate's kooky old roommate's room into a home office for Blake.

"I read in the New York Times today that you're predicted to be the Don Draper of our time in your new position as marketing president at Apple," Kate says nonchalantly over the spaghetti and week-old vegetables Blake made the family for dinner one night.

Oliver pukes on the new rug and Blake yells at Kate for giving Oliver onions. "Dogs can't eat onions, you stupid idiot!" Kate ignores him, turns to the next page of the Times and reads, "Weekend Getaway Deals on Delta to Greece," in the travel section.

"Omg,omg,omg! Flights to Greece are only $200! We can afford that if we don't feed Penelope and Oliver for a few weeks!" Kate jumps up and down and runs to the hallway closet to pull her suitcase out.

A huge smile forms on Blake's face as hides something behind his back. "Baby girl, I am one step ahead of you. We're going to Greece!"

After boarding Oliver and Penelope in a Bronx pound for the weekend, Kate and Blake jetset to a villa in the Greek Isles. Once they are finally over their jetlag, they decide to take a romantic stroll down the Mediterranean Beach, and out of nowhere, Blake gets down on one knee.

"Little girl, I have loved you since we were 17 and I first saw you drinking a Smirrnoff Ice and dancing to Jay-Z at the Sigma Chi duplex. Will you marry me?" Kate cries and cusses at him for not asking her sooner.

The beautiful couple hoop and holler and immediately high-tail it to a Grecian temple where they exchange 14-carat wedding bands inscribed in hieroglyphics "True Love Forever."

When they get back to the colonies and pick up their canines from The Bronx Zoo (they were kicked out of the pound for acting like wild animals), they call their parents -- Greg, Salma, Kent and Lynne -- to break the wonderful news.

"Who the hell is Kate, and when did you fly to New York?" Kent asks.

"Did you find a proper piano teacher in NYC yet?" Lynne chimes in.

"Thank God someone finally agreed to marry you," Greg mutters.

"Did you bring me back a Grecian urn for my living room?" Salma questions.

Kate and Blake laugh at the silly sluts who raised them and decide to bask in the bliss that is their big apple domestic life.

"Oh by the way," Kate says to Blake. "We're going to start re-decorating your home office... We'll need to paint the walls pink and buy a crib...."