by Stephen Johnson
My plan was simple: I would stare at Bob long enough to make him crazy
edgy and then he would have no choice but to fess up and give me the
real reason the woman and I couldn’t hang out for our vacation.
This I did as he kept hitting the bong, probably thinking I would stop
staring and ask for a hit. Alas, this did not work for I showed
As he kept sucking at that bong, my plan started working because he
started very paranoid. First it was ants in his hair, then it was cops
at the door and then it was me.
Me making him paranoid.
Looking like he was going to run for cover, I talked to him in a
soothing tone of voice and convinced him that the best thing for him to
do was sit his ass down on one of his midget chairs and then he would
tell me the truth.
He finally accepted my silky soothiness and sat down. I stood directly
in front of him in case he was still thinking of escape, but far enough
away that he couldn’t strike at me with his short legs.
Asking him over and over again why weren’t welcome when we only wanted
to relax with really good friends for about a week, talking about old
times and drinking some brews and no, I wasn’t smelly because of my
heavy daily dose of Irish Spring and Old Spice made me smell nice and
clean finally got through to him and the eye shiftiness stopped and the
paranoia stopped and he finally looked me directly in my gorgeous blue
What it boils down to is that he thinks I’m a dick.
So that’s the real reason why he doesn’t want us to hang around.
And I thought we were friends. Damn!
However, part of him wants us to stay over and, when I fall asleep, his
lifelong goal of cutting out my sparkling blue eyes will be over and
That’s something that doesn’t sit too well with me.
Feeling totally unwanted, I shook his hand, just like dicks do.
Then I left, but not before torching his ’81 Toyota which is just what a
dick would do.
A day or so later, I was in the comfort of my home, watching some guys
digging us a new well which ultimately cost us around 5 grand.
So this year we’re off the Delaware. I’ll tell you why next time because
that’s what dicks do.
COMING NEXT: Why Delaware?