Sunday, August 29, 2010

Big Momma's House

So the night is off to a good start, and the festivities of the party are in full swing.  Sarah is knocking back shots of Smirnoff with two girls who look like they're barely pushing the tender age of 17.  One looks like Miley Cyrus, and the other more like Jonah Hill in the movie "Cyrus."  Why does every remotely attractive girl always roll with a fat homely friend?  Is it a distraction, just like Jonah Hill?  Are they simply there to make Seth Rogen look more physically fit?

I tell the guy I just met that I'm going to go talk to my girlfriend, but that I'll bring him a beer on my way back.  I won't come back, though.  I head over to talk to Sarah.  Usually, Sarah acts like a total bitch to me when she's drinking with strangers.  She basically acts like she doesn't know me.  Tonight is no exception.  "So is it time for some shots?" I say, as I pick up the handle of Smirnoff off the table.  Before I can even finish my sentence, Jonah has angrily grabbed the bottle away from me with her elephantine claws.  "You don't just take someone's drink that they paid for.  I had to pay for this.  I didn't even offer it to you," she yells.  And now this random girl has to feel my wrath.  "Jesus, sorry.  I thought I was doing you a favor.  Alcohol has a lot of calories in it," I say with a big grin.  Everyone who's even a little fat instantly knows when you're making light of their weight problem, but they always have to say "What's that supposed to mean?"  I scratch the side of my head.
"Well" I tell her, "It's just that you already look sort of bloated, and I'm afraid if you drink anymore we might have to call the fire department or the police or something.  Not because of your intoxication, but because we don't have the tools to knock a hole in the wall for you."  I laugh casually and continue.  "I mean, how else are you going to make it outside the building?  The door hasn't been an option since you were 7.  How did you get in here?"  I look around the room dramatically.  "Is there a giant skylight somewhere that I missed?  Wait, is this your house?  Do you just always stay inside, because you can't leave?  Should I regale you with stories from the outside world?  People out there have less volume than you, it's amazing, you wouldn't believe it."  At this point, I realize I'm basically yelling and that all three girls are looking at me in absolute horror.  I've literally just launched into a drunken rant against a mildly heavy set girl (who I'm sure is normally quite the charmer) for virtually no reason.

Did I feel embarrassed when they all told me I was a bad person and proceeded to chew me out?  Or when Jonah basically started crying, and her friend had to rush her off to the deepest isolated nethers of the house?  Well, yes.  But I'd like to think I made a positive difference in that young girl's life.  I mean hell,  the next day she no doubt sobered up and said to herself  "Today I'm going to do it, today I'm going to start a slimmer way of life.  I'll show that good looking guy from the party!"  You know what?  I'm less a man than a saint.    


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