I can't Stop Myself (190 hits)
Category: UberMadness! EntryRating: 2 on 1 review (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by iddqd (View user info) at 2005-07-18 13:44:25 EDT
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I can't help myself, I play second fiddle. I'm the wingman, the go-to guy for the back-up funny line, the witty quip. I'm the guy my friends go to when they need someone to spice up their lame anecdote and get the hot girl to laugh, and take the credit, while I console myself with another pull on my beer. No, matter what I do, no matter how I smile, or laugh, or the spot that I sit, I'm number two.
And by number two, I mean shit.
Even when I try to 'get the girl', hollywood style, I find complemting my friends as much as myself, getting the women I speak to to pay as much attention to them as me, maybe even more.
Wait.
I'm not some sad fuck. I'm confident, I'm relatively happy, as happy as a guy can be in this world, I guess, within reason. I mean, I'm not conquering worlds, but who is? I get laid, I party and have fun, but when there's a really hot girl and she's at the table I'm at, I'm not in the game.
And it's All My Fault. Like I said, I can't help myself.
"So, this is James." I smiled politely, as my intoduction was made. The girls sat down at the table with my friend and I. The hot one next to him, the other next to me. The die was cast. Yeah, sure I'm being shallow, by labelling them as such, but the first bite is with the eye, and we always covet that we which we feel we cannot have.
"So, I fucked this kids mother last night." My friend began. He was never one for subtle conversation. He prefers to scare the bitches into liking him, to borrow from Eddie Murphy. Act like a dickhead, and they'll notice. Act like a dickhead for long enough and they'll get used to it, this was his plan of attack. It worked, what can I say, it fucking worked. Wait, check that: it worked because I was there, to provide the foil, the sarcastic undertone.
The girls raised their eyebrows in understandable shock. Not exactly the ice-breaker they were looking for. I guess it has its charms.
He continued, "Yeah we shagged on someone's couch, and then made her seven-year-old get out of bed and sleep on the couch where we just shagged, so we could fuck in a bed. Funny as hell." He said, and laughed. The girls laughed nervously. He looked at me, I guess it was my turn to smooth it over, to make it right. Like I always do, Get My Friends Laid.
"Well, if it was me, I'd've done some lines off the kid's ass before going to bed, just to make it complete." I said, going low enough that it could only be jest. They laughed on cue, relieved. I spent the remainder of the night, being charming and funny and nice, so my arrogant, nasty friends can take them home and fuck them.
Why don't they fuck me? I mean, I do all the hard yards, I do all the real work, being nice to girls, when really all I want is to get drunk with my friends and laugh. Well, sure, there is the 'nice guy finishes last' kinda deal, yeah, but I guess I just don't have the whole 'Alpha Male' thing working for me. I mean, I can try and blame it on the 'nice guy' routine, but I'm not that nice, in fact, I'm an asshole; what it really is, is something more primal, it's pheromones or some shit. I get girls, from time to time, but it's never the girls I want. I see the correlation here, Doctor Freud, but I tried doing the 'ignore them and treat them like shit, and they'll come running' bit, and let me tell you: some guys say it works, but they're lying. There's some pheromonal, hormonal, psychic shit happening. When you're interested in a girl, they just know, whether they are conscious of it or not, they know. It puts out some smell in the air, that they can sense miles away, like sharks can taste blood in the water from miles away. But unlike sharks, they don't come circling for a feeding frenzy, just the opposite. My job is to play second fiddle; the bridesmaid, never the bride. One time I even got a friend laid, while his girlfriend of seven years, the mother of his children, was in the next room.
He'd been trying to set us up for a couple weeks. Neither she nor I were particularly interested, and he had been going through some serious relationship trouble, so I kinda had suspicions about his motives, but I played along: fuck it, I might possibly get laid, and beggars can't be choosers, right? Like I said, I'm not a nice guy; if a girl is up for a fuck, then I'm happy to oblige. Anyway, we got back to his place after a night out clubbing, and the three of us were chatting. Second we got back, I knew what was happening. In his place, in his comfort zone, he began to start making a move. I let myself drift into my usual role. Look, I'll spare you the details, but basically, I laughed and made light jokes until he convinced her to fuck him in his bathroom. I'm not too proud of that, but the way I figure, they're both adults, let them make their own mistakes.
I gotta shake this henchman mantle, this lackey image, the sidekick gig. But I can't help myself, it's what I do, a guy's gotta look out for his friends, right? Shit, it even cost me a shot at what I still think was the girl of my dreams.
I was at a party, having fun. Drinking and helping hook my friends up. Then she came in. A group of three girls, and her. Wait, that should be Her, capital 'H'. Fuck it, capital everything. HERRRRRRR. She had dark hair, legs that gave me a heart condition, and when I, in what I believe to be an out of body experience, as I was channeled by the ghost of Errol Flynn or some other cool, 'ladies man' type guy; walked up to her and said "hi", I found out she had eyes that would haunt me to this very day. I said hi, and we began to talk. I'd like to tell you what we talked about, because I'm sure it was cool, but really, I have no idea, no memory. I talked, she talked and we laughed and smiled and had fun. That's all I remember. It all went like perfect, hollywood clockwork. I was there, I was gonna get the girl, The Girl.
What happened?
You know, I'm not rightly sure. At some point, my friend Joseph appeared on the scene, and the T.V. changed channels. It changed from The James and Sarah - that was her name - Show, to the James, Sarah and Joseph Show, to the Jospeh and Sarah Show, special guest-starring James, to just Joseph and Sarah. I'm best man at their wedding next week. I've gotta speak about how they met and how cool they both are, and how they're made for each other and how cool true love is, without jumping the wedding table and beating them to death with the mic, to the satisfying high-pitched, whiny, staccatto feedback. I don't know how I'm going to do it, but fuck it, you know, it's a buddy, and he's got a beautiful girl. I love them both, I'll be O.K. Good luck to them both, right?
"Oh, my god, that's terrible!" the beautiful, dark-haired girl said, and pulled me close, for the first time. Oh, that first serious contact is always the sweetest.
"Ah, thanks for your concern. You know, you look a lot like her..." I said, and drifted off, meaningfully haunted.
"Oh, really? Do you think I'm beautiful, too?" She said, hooking a strand of hair behind her ear, and giving me my awaited cue.
I snapped, a little too dramatically out of my reverie. "Oh, of course, of course. You are so amazingly beautiful." I said, hugging her back, tightly. We tilted our heads and kissed. Bingo. The sad-sack, second fiddle routine never fails.
Yeah, it's kinda low and underhanded and slimy, but fuck it, I'm a compulsive liar, I can't help myself.
Besides, it gets me laid.
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Submitted by FunnyAsCancer (user info) at 2005-10-30 05:35:58 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
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