Growing up my bff Tricia was that person. There is no way I could ever count how many times in our 17 years of living in the same state that we came up with crazy and fantastic adventures, but then when I screamed something like “…and then we’ll all go to Canada! Get in the car!” or “…and I’ll going to elope with him tonight!” or “…which is when I realized the only reason I can’t fly is because I haven’t been jumping from high enough!” she would counter by telling me that was basically the worst plan in the history of the world, because it always was. There is a very good chance I would be dead or in prison if it weren’t for that little ball of Mexican sunshine.I always believed her because I understood and respected the nature of our relationship. Tricia isn’t boring at all, not even a little bit, and we did plenty of insane things that I hope to god my children never do when they’re the age we were… but she possesses an ability to see when the train is heading for the cliff that I just do not and hits the breaks so it doesn’t.
Kristen and I have been friends for more than six years now and we should have known something wasn’t working right the first time we really hung out not at a gym. We went out to dinner at CPK, the conversation veered in a weird direction, and suddenly,
The only problem was we both try really hard not to come into contacts with dead bodies unless we absolutely have to, and her husband Frank refused to go into the neighbor’s house and look for their bodies for us.We thought he should do it because he’s a man and there for dead bodies would be less traumatizing for him (Kristen’s reasoning) and because he secretly may not have a soul (my reasoning). He thought he should not do it because he thought we were being completely ridiculous and nothing was wrong.
So we did what any reasonable, rational people would do.
Kristen called the police.
And while we chatted as she waited for the officer to arrive I suddenly realized, your neighbors are totally not dead. They probably went to a movie or something and the door didn’t latch completely when they left. The car is gone because they had to drive in it to get where ever they were going.
So, after promising Kristen I would get her totally crunk if her neighbors actually were dead… because that’s just good friend behavior… I was telling her about my friendship theory about the train and whatnot.
Kristen: “But we’re not really like that… because we’re different types of crazy.”
Me: “How so?”
Kristen: “Idk…. trying to find a reason for you not to friend dump me.”
Me: “Tequila shots: Should I do them less? Do they often end in embarrassing ways? Do too many of them make me forget how to act like an adult and/or keep all my clothes on? Absolutely. But I’m never going to stop, nobody can make me. Kristen Fiorucci, you are my tequila shot.”