It's True Because It's Funny

In my freshman year of high school, I had three classes with Emma, a red-haired beauty who taught me the word “crush.”

Emma was pretty, sure; but unlike the standard Manic Pixie Dream Girl, she was also brilliant, funny, and driven. If she was the love interest in a movie where the guy wants the girl, there was no way I was the guy who was going to get her. I was probably the nerdy, scrawny side character who made the slightly less socially awkward protagonist look better in comparison.

* * *

But one day in fourth period geometry, Emma commented on my sweater –

Emma: “I like your sweater.”
Josh: “What?  Thanks.”
Emma: “Where’d you get it?”
Josh: “Sex Pots R’ Us.”

It made no sense, but she laughed –

Emma: “Oh yeah, I love that place!”

Moments later, she asked for help with a math problem, and I pushed my luck with some TI-83 jokes.  I wrote –

“I HAVE NICE ABS(…”

Then I calculated the absolute value of my name, inserting values for the letters J, O, S, and H such that it read –

“ABS(JOSH) = 0.”

She loved it — and whether or not it was humorous to her ironically, she asked me to go to the football game with her on Friday night.

Now I was enamored with this girl, but I hated football and didn’t have a car (or even a learner’s permit).  So I agreed to go.

* * *

Over the next few days, I learned the rules of football, got a haircut, did more push-ups than I’ve done in my entire life, and avoided Emma at all costs.  (I didn’t want to spoil our rapport and have her rescind the offer.)

* * *

Then it was Friday.

I must’ve taken three showers before I met Emma, each time trying on a different cologne sample that my father’s mother had given me as a holiday present.  Finally, I landed on a particularly manly scent called “Cotton Candy Fantasy.”

I was ready.

* * *

Because Emma and I were both that awkward age of fifteen, my mother had to pick her up and drop us off. At fifteen, the last thing you want are parents — especially caring ones for some reason I still don’t understand — but Emma didn’t mind at all. In fact, she and my mom got along so well, I started to become jealous.

* * *

The game started and I did my best to pretend to give a shit about our team.  Within minutes, though, Emma was laughing at me.  Clearly my school pride was forced — because she pointed out that I was rooting for the wrong school colors.

Emma: “We’re blue and white — not blue and yellow.”
Josh: “Oh.  I guess that’s how much school spirit I have.”
Emma: {laughs} “That’s okay.  I didn’t actually want to see football either.  This just seemed like something we should do.”

We immediately stopped watching the game, talking instead about what music we liked, what teachers we didn’t, and what we hoped would happen by the end of the school year.  I asked about her career aspirations.  She asked about my family.  It was one of the easiest and most amazing conversations I’ve ever had.

Then, out of nowhere, it started to rain.

We ran from the football bleachers toward the nearest awning.  I took off my jacket and put it over her head to protect her.  She didn’t notice what I was doing and dropped it in a pile of mud.  “So much for that,” I said.  We laughed.

By the time we reached the awning, she was shivering.  I rubbed my hands up and down her arms to warm her up (as men do for some reason I still don’t understand).  When this didn’t work, I mimed taking off my shirt to give to her, which made her smile even more.

She looked beautiful, I felt close to this girl, and even though we had only been talking for an hour, I felt like I could spend the rest of my life with her.

This was my movie moment.  I was the protagonist after all.  I looked into her eyes, pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, and went in for my first kiss.  As my lips moved closer to hers, she whispered –

Emma: “Josh: I’m a lesbian.”

* * *

As my mom dropped Emma off at her house, two things came to mind –

One: I guess the movie of my life was actually a romantic tragedy. And two: I can’t believe I wasted all of that Cotton Candy Fantasy.

Every time I try to write my friend David into a script, I get the same note: “This character is too weird and unbelievable.”  Even if the script is a cartoon, people find the David character “too wacky.”

Well I assure you, David is a real guy, and he’s funnier than a good majority of the comedic characters I see in movies or TV.  So, here are several things about David that I find hilarious even if no one else does…

(Oh, also — apologies to David for any places where I have embellished or completely made up things about him.  He knows I do that.  A lot.)

* * *

David has been one of my best friends since the sixth grade.  He’s just one of those guys…who will not go away.

I love him, though.  He’s got a big heart, a fertile mind, and he’s the only person I know who says stuff like –

David: “I like my women like my underwear: white and clinging to my testicles…and about 13 years old.”

And you think he’s joking, but then you find out he’s dating some chick in middle school…who already has a kid of her own…who David’s also sort of interested in.

He’s a romantic.  Really.  David’s main goal in life is to have this epic, spiritual relationship with someone.  He just…lives by a middle school.  It’s convenient.

* * *

A lot of people label David as “weird” or “creepy,” and I’ll admit, he has gotten four or five sexual harassment charges, but I don’t believe most of them are his fault.  He just thinks taking his pants off in public is funny.

No, I actually think the reason people find David off-putting is that he speaks slowly and never moves his eyebrows.  They remain at this kind of sinister-looking angle whether he’s saying, “This experience fills me with joy,” “Let’s go get some nachos,” or “I once raped a baby.”

He also talks about doing weird things.  Recently, David told me that he wants to change his middle name from Lawrence to Danger: David Danger Drake.  (I admit, all of the d’s do sound good, together — although David Dumbass Drake sounds equally melodious.)

And he acts on some of these eccentric thoughts.  He graduated from a college where you can make your own major, and got his degree in “psychonautics.”

Etymologically, psychonautics means “journey of the mind,” but that’s just a college degree’s way of saying, “I did a lotta drugs.”

Now David’s planning on going to grad school, but he told me not to worry; this time he’s going to study something more practical: kung fu.

David: “One day, I’m gonna get into a bar fight and some guy’s gonna be like, ‘Yo, you wanna take this outside?’ and I’ll say, ‘You better watch out, because I have a doctorate in kick ass.’  Then the other guy’ll go, ‘Oh my God…you’re not the infamous –’ ‘That’s right!’ I’ll say.  ‘Dr. David Danger Drake, DDS.’”
Josh: “David, DDS is dentist.”
David: “I don’t care.  I like all those d’s.”

* * *

Still, David always finds girls to sleep with him…which just goes to show, MySpace still works.

He thinks it’s his pick-up lines.  He’ll walk into a room and say –

David: “Damn, I’m sexy!  Who wants my phone number?”

– or –

David: “Oh, check me out…but not for too long.  There might be late fees, baby!”

He recently told me that he’s seeing this Hispanic girl named Monica who goes by “Moca” because she wants to be a — any guesses?  Coffee maker?  Interior designer? — PORN STAR!  That’s right.  She wants to be a porn star.

David also told me that, like every girl he’s met on MySpace, this one was — any guesses?  High school swim champion?  Musical virtuoso? — MOLESTED by her father!  That’s right.  Huge daddy issues!

So what does David do when he finds out?  He screws her anyway.  And apparently, as she’s orgasming, she yells out –

Hispanic girl: “Ay, Papi!  Papi!  No, Papi!”

I asked David if he found that experience the least bit unusual.  He told me –

David: “I’ll say.  I gave her an orgasm.”

* * *

When it comes to relationships, David’s one of those guys who always wants more.  He’s like that book If You Give a Mouse a Cookie…if it were completely inappropriate for children.

Narrator: “If you give David a woman, he’ll probably ask for a hand job.  And if you give David a hand job, he’ll probably ask for some hard core fucking.  And if you give David some hard core fucking, he’ll probably ask for some –”

Anyway, it gets really obscene from there and the book inevitably ends with the line –

Narrator: “…and if you do that, you’ll probably have to get a restraining order.”

David admits to being needy.  He’ll call a girl like –

Girl: “Hello?”
David: “It’s David.”
Girl: “Hey David.  How’s –”
{BEEP!}
Girl: “Oh, could you hold on a second?  I got another call.”
Girl: “Hello?”
David: “It’s David.”
Girl: {short scream} “Ahh!”

* * *

The other thing I love about David is his ability to justify stupid decisions.  Like he won’t shower for a week, but when I criticize him for it, he criticizes me for hurting the environment.

When I criticize him for drug use, he criticizes me for not exploring the recesses of my mind.

When I criticize him for not working, he criticizes me for conforming and for not taking the time to learn about myself.

When I criticize him for having to rollerblade everywhere because he doesn’t have enough money to purchase a car (probably from his lack of a job), he criticizes me for not exercising…and conforming…and hurting the environment.

It gets a little repetitive.

* * *

I’ve also diagnosed David as having Asperger’s, a condition in which an individual can’t pick up on social cues.  For example, if I tell him –

Josh: “I hate you, David.”

– he’ll respond with –

David: “Cool.  You wanna go bowling?”

He’ll sell my watch for no reason, and I’ll say –

Josh: {sarcastic} “Oh great, David.  Thanks.  It’s not like that item of clothing ever comes in handy.”

– to which he’ll say –

David: “That’s good.  I thought you were gonna be angry.”

* * *

Still, no matter where I am in my life, I will find a way to keep David in it — because he always knows how to fill the gaps in conversation.  The last time I saw him, I invited him to a classy party with my boss.  Not knowing what to talk about, my boss asked –

Boss: “Boy, it’s getting cold out, isn’t it?”

After a long, uncomfortable silence, David added –

David: “I’ve been told I have a great cock.”