Last week, I stayed at my aunt and uncle's place on the beach while I took pictures for work. Sunday, Kyle came down to accompany me to my Martha's Vineyard site visit, because it's a weird fun dork thing to do on a Sunday, and that's the kind of shit we both like to do. Because we're dorks. It's cool.
We left around 12:00, we were taking my rental car. I guess I'd opened the front door a little too wide, because the shit would not close - the rubber-line thing on the bottom of the door got caught up on the carpet. You know. It was stuck.
So I pull and pull and pull, but the door does not move, at all. I'm using both hands and all my weight and everything, and JUST when I was about to abandon the effort entirely and turn to snap at Kyle: "HEY, motherfucker, any interest in actually HELPING ME with your man-arms, or are you cool to just stand there and watch me do battle with this Door of Degredation on my own?", the carpet gave, or something, and I pulled the door shut. Phew.
As it closed, Kyle nodded and turned. "I needed to know that you could do that on your own," he said. "For when you're by yourself later." And then he started down the porch stairs.
"Goddamn," I said. "If that's not one of the truest expressions of real-ass friendship I have ever seen."
Because - isn't it?
2 comments:
lots of comments.in th order i thought them up
#1 that is sweet and true
#2 maybe Kyle was just being lazy
#3 boys from new england are of no help in the carrying / assisting with heavy shit department.
#4 my dad would say the same thing when i packed a suitcase up in my room and i had to take the bag down two flights of stairs, "I am not going to be there at the airport."
and I wrote this anonymously but not really
Haha, for reals, I knew who it was three words in.
This comment could be titled 'Speaking of Main Damies'.
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