Tag Archives: Andre

Making amends with Andre

Andre sent me a text last week saying how he felt bad about things had ended and that he wanted to meet up and maybe restart the friendship and let bygones be bygones. That son of a bitch. Now he’s going to go around to everyone and show off the text message and people will say stuff like, “Wow Andre, you’re a really big person, you know that?” And he’ll kind of just look at them, not saying anything out loud, maybe he’ll give a really fake shrug, a nonverbal response that says without saying it, “Yeah, I know exactly what you’re talking about.”

And I’m such an idiot. I just ignored the message without remembering that on the iPhone it shows up on the text message screen as saying, “delivered,” or, “read.” So he’s probably going around to everyone, and while he’s showing everyone that he’s trying to make amends, he’ll also be letting them know that I’m ignoring him, that I purposefully saw, read, and then didn’t respond to his message.

And let me tell you, this is all such bullshit. Everybody knows that I’m the bigger person. And whatever, if you don’t think I’m the biggest person, I mean, that’s a different argument. I think we can all agree that I’m definitely a bigger person than Andre. I never responded to his text because I knew he was full of it. I could just tell. I’d text something like, “Sure man, no hard feelings,” and then he would probably respond with something like, “So yeah, I’m thinking about hosting a picnic this Saturday and I was hoping you could swing by. Any chance you could be in charge of picking up some potato salad on the way there?”

Again, this might seem like a harmless request, but we have such a loaded history. One time I hosted my own picnic and Andre sabotaged it. And it worked. I’m still so pissed off about that picnic. It was going to be so much fun. I had to get rid of like ten friends that day. I just can’t let him get any closer.

But at the same time, the idea of him walking around telling people that I carry grudges, or that I’m standoffish, or that I should consider going to a therapist, that it’s done wonders for him, that he could refer me to his guy, that it doesn’t matter if I don’t have insurance, that the guy will work with me on my budget. Fucking Andre, I can’t, I just can’t give him that satisfaction.

But I couldn’t think of what to do or how to get out of this. A couple more days passed before I thought of the perfect solution. I texted Andre back from my number saying, “Sorry, wrong number.” And he texted back, “Rob?” and I wrote, “No man, wrong number.” And then he wrote back something like, “OK, sorry.” Fucking Andre. That guy always has to have the last word. Every single time. So I wrote back, “NP.” You know, for “no problem.” And then he wrote, “NP?” Jesus Christ, everybody knows what NP means, he just has to have the last word.

I went to the AT&T store and told them I wanted a whole new account, new number, everything. Right before the clerk activated the switch, I sent Andre one last text message, “No problem,” and then told the clerk “Now! Switch it!” and the clerk was like, “Well, I mean, it’s not instantaneous. But it should only take a second. Let’s see …”

Incompetent clerks. Only a second. It was like five minutes. And of course Andre texted back, “Oh, OK.” Why does he always have to respond? At what point are you just like, fine, I don’t care about having the last word. And he thinks he’s the bigger person? What kind of a bigger person just keeps texting, just for the sake of always responding last?

Anyway, I got my new phone number and waited a couple of days and then I sent Andre a text message, “Hey Andre. It’s been a while. Anyway, I just feel like I don’t like how we left things, and maybe we should just bury the hatchet and start fresh.” And he texted back, “Who is this?” I wrote, “It’s Rob G. Some guy stole my phone a while back and I had to get a new number.” And he wrote. “NP. That’s big of you. Yeah, apology accepted. We’re cool.”

I’m just like, thinking to myself, did I apologize? I didn’t apologize. I didn’t say sorry. And who is he to tell me that my text was big. Is he the dispenser of bigness? Like he’s bigger than me and can somehow award me with a little bit of his infinite supply of big? And what, now this guy’s going to go around and show everybody that text message and tell everyone that I apologized? What do I have to be sorry about? That manipulative jerk. It was an olive branch if anything. And besides, he messaged me first. I should have responded, “apology accepted.” That way I could have been the bigger person while at the same time putting him in his place. And what’s with that NP business? Did he just start using NP when I told him about from my other phone? Or did he somehow catch on to my plan? What a psycho. Seriously, like doesn’t this guy have anything better to do? And now what, we’re friends again? I can’t believe I got played like that. Fucking Andre.

I’ve had just about enough of these unfounded claims and unwarranted accusations

If everyone would just stop staring at me for a second, I’m sure I’ll be able to explain. Those rumors you’ve been hearing about me are, well, they’re just that, rumors. And think about it, who would want to spread rumors about me? It doesn’t make any sense, right? But it totally makes sense. It was Andre. That asshole’s had it out for me for months. Ever since that picnic. You don’t know Andre? Good, forget I mentioned it. And don’t ask anybody about him. And don’t look him up on facebook. Trust me, he’s a huge loser and everything he’s been saying about me is a total lie. It stems mostly, I think, from a deep-seated jealousy, or a hatred, but that’s beside the point.

Those drugs? What can I say, except that they weren’t mine? I don’t really do drugs. I mean, that doesn’t count, I mean, I don’t really consider that a drug. But someone’s obviously trying to set me up. And I can only think of one person. But I’m not in the business of naming names, pointing fingers. I’m not going to stoop down to anyone else’s level. Nobody ever stoops down to my level, so why should I return the favor? Why are you looking at your cell phone? Is it Andre?

No, I’m just joking. I don’t even know any Andre. Just forget he exists. And I don’t even know what you’re talking about, drugs. I’ve never seen any drugs. Somebody must have made all of that stuff up. Why would I bring it up? I don’t know, I thought you were going to bring it up. Sorry, I’ve had a lot on my mind lately. A lot of nonsense. I heard this rumor that someone’s spreading some gossip about money and some drugs and, you know who’s really into drugs, right? Andre. You’re sure you’ve never met him, right? Good. Trust me, you’re going to want to keep it that way. He’ll ask you for five dollars, no big deal right? And he’ll wait you out like a month, two months, and then he’ll pay you back. And then like a week later he’s asking you for twenty, then fifty, then twenty again. And he’ll pay those back too, eventually. But then there’s a call in the middle of the night, and it’s Andre, and he needs five hundred dollars, right now, he can’t explain, but it’s urgent, but he’ll pay you back seven fifty tomorrow, the very next day. And then he disappears for a while.

Well just forget everything I said then. But ask around, Andre’s bad news. But don’t ask around, don’t talk about him unless someone brings him up. And if it comes up, and you’re roped into a conversation about him, let whoever you’re talking to know that I had nothing to do with any of this nonsense. Don’t like put it in there like I asked you to say something, just drop it in naturally, gracefully. And if this person still insists on continuing to talk about Andre, ask if they’ve seen my eight hundred dollars anywhere. I can’t find it. I started asking around about my money and all of the sudden there’re these rumors about me and drugs and …

No I never joined a cult. Fucking Andre. I went to one party, one time. I thought it was going to be a social thing. Yeah, maybe it was a little culty, but I didn’t bring anybody. Well, I didn’t force that person to come with me. They just came. And it’s not my fault if they found the whole presentation really convincing. You’ve got to stop asking so many questions. Don’t you trust me? Aren’t we friends?

Listen, do you have five dollars? I just went to the deli to get a sandwich and I totally forgot my wallet. I know, I’m such a space cadet sometimes. Anyway, the guy told me I could have the sandwich and pay him back next time, because I’m always getting sandwiches at that deli, I’m a regular. More than a regular. Seriously, the sandwich guy invited me to his wife’s baby shower. I couldn’t go, but I sent a gift. But I feel really bad about the sandwich, like what if I go back to pay him later but there’s a different deli guy behind the counter? And even though the guy says he’ll pass along the five bucks, what if he never does? And what if I go back the next day to get another sandwich, and my sandwich guy thinks that I haven’t paid him back? Like I’m just ignoring it? And he’s not going to say anything, he’s just going to stuff it inside, a little deeper, trying to forget about it, to let bygones be bygones, but it’ll grow, and he won’t forget, and the next time I forget my wallet, he’s just going to be like, sorry man, no money, no sandwich. No exceptions. And he’ll point to a little sign that he printed out on his computer, it’ll say exactly that, “No money …” just like I just said.

Thanks a lot. I’ll pay you back tomorrow. No, I’ll pay you back tonight. I’ll pay you six dollars. Just take it, I insist. I’m good for it. I’m a good guy. You tell that to Andre if you see him. Well, if anybody mentions Andre to you, you tell whoever’s talking about him that I’m a good guy. Well then just forget I said anything. Yeah, just forget all of it.

What a nice day for a picnic

I hosted a big picnic in the park last week for all of my friends and family. I’ve always wanted to host a picnic. I feel like nobody does picnics anymore. You never see people carrying around picnic baskets. Nobody talks about picnics on Facebook. Even now, in just three sentences of this first paragraph, I feel like I’ve used the word picnic more than I’ve ever used it in the rest of my life. The picnic, I feel, is in danger of becoming extinct, and I was going to save it by hosting my own picnic. Let me just tell you, it was the worst event I’ve ever even hosted, a huge disaster. Nothing could have possibly been a worse idea.

Everybody had a huge problem with the chain of command. If I host a party at my place, then I’m in charge. Whenever people come over, I like to constantly reinforce this fact by bossing people around, but only slightly, just to kind of, you know, say without saying it, hey, I’m in charge. This is my party. I’ll be like, “Hey, George, would you mind using a coaster?” or “Steve, didn’t I tell everyone to take their shoes off at the front door?” And what are people going to do, start something with me? No, I make sure that all of my rules or so tiny as to not be worth getting into a fight over. It’s much easier to just go along with it. It is my house, after all, and I’m the host.

I thought that it would be the same with picnics, but it wasn’t. I had it at a public park, so I guess people got it into their heads that they didn’t have to listen to me anymore. But I was still the host, right? I’d be like, “Andre, didn’t I ask that all of the picnic blankets be laid out vertically?” and Andre was just like, “Well, yeah, but I wanted to lay out my blanket horizontally.” And then he just kind of shrugged at me and put his hands up halfway in the air, saying to me something like, what are you going to do?

So I got in Andre’s face and reminded him that I was the host. I started to move his blanket myself, but he just picked it up and stormed off. Fine, I didn’t want him at my picnic anyway. That guy’s a total loser. Fucking Andre. I shouldn’t even have invited him in the first place. I sent out all of the invitations on Facebook, and this guy had the nerve to respond with a “maybe.” Maybe? Maybe I should have rescinded his invitation right then and there. But I didn’t, because I’m a nice guy. But he just showed up anyway, without even bothering to change his RSVP to “Attending.” I checked on the picnic’s Facebook page a little later, and this time Andre changed it to “Not Attending.” What a big man, rubbing it in my face. I defriended him later in the day. And then the next day I refriended him, because I knew he’d accept it. And he did. And then I defriended him again. I’m telling you, that guy is a huge loser.

Then some other people took out this badminton set and started putting it up. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I told them while I confiscated the rackets that they had put over to the side while they were busy setting up the net. “Activities aren’t until later, and we’re not playing badminton, we’re playing kickball.” They were getting upset. I was getting upset. Actually, I wasn’t getting upset, I already was upset. I must have still been upset from that little tussle I had with Andre. They argued with me. I kept talking over everybody. Somebody tried to chase after me, to get back the rackets, but I’m the fastest runner out of all of my friends, so it was pointless. I’d let them get kind of close, let them think that they were about to catch me, but then I’d take off, really getting ahead of them. Then I’d pretend that I used up all of my energy on that sprint, and make it like I was out of breath. And they’d come up all charging at me, thinking they had me finally, but right before they could catch me, I’d take off again. In the end I just threw the rackets in the giant fountain in the middle of the park.

So they started undoing the badminton set. I thought I had won, but they were being such babies that they packed up and left. Good. I don’t know why I ever invited those jerks in the first place. That’s all your going to contribute to the picnic? A stupid baby tennis set? Take a hike. I told everyone else to get to work setting up the grill. They asked me where I had put the charcoal. I told them that I didn’t bring any charcoal, that was Denise’s job. Denise claimed she didn’t know she was supposed to bring any charcoal. It was right on the Facebook page, a link to the web site I had set up for the picnic. There was an excel spreadsheet that you were supposed to download to find out what you were supposed to bring. It turns out nobody downloaded it. Nobody brought anything on the list. People just brought whatever they wanted. I was so pissed. I told everybody that they were all uninvited from the picnic. And you know what? I told them, you’re not even uninvited. You were never invited in the first place. Invitation annulled. And you know what else? Picnic’s cancelled. Go home. Thanks a lot everybody. Thanks for nothing.

Then my phone buzzed. I looked down. It was an email. The email was from Facebook. It was a notification about a picnic. The picnic was being organized by Andre. I clicked on the link. “Hey everyone! Let’s have a picnic! Right now! Right over here, to your left! Bring whatever you want!” I look to my left and Andre was standing on the other side of the park, waving everybody over. Fucking Andre. That guy is such a poser. Always stealing my great ideas. I opened up the Facebook app and went to the picnic page and clicked on my RSVP, “Not Attending.” As I packed up my stuff and headed out to leave, I looked up and everyone was walking over to Andre’s picnic, those traitors, those fair-weather friends, and someone else took off their shoes and waded into the fountain and got the badminton rackets, and someone else was setting up the net.

I thought about calling up the cops and telling them that a group of people was loitering in the park, drinking alcohol out of concealed containers, and was that marijuana smoke I was smelling? But I decided against it. I’ll be the bigger person here. But by the time I got home I was so pissed all over again that I actually did call the cops. And I told them that a group of extremists was planning a terrorist attack in the park. Then I went on facebook and wrote a status update, “Anybody else hear about that failed terrorist attack in the park?”