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I had a great group of friends throughout high school. We partied hard, went everywhere together, and they helped my teenage years fly by. When school ended, our large network of friends was cut down to five, which is typical. Now, part of being a good friend is to be there for them in times of need, and the other part is to bust on their ass as much as possible. You have to take the bad with the good, as our one friend learned very well.
It was one of those nights where there really isn’t much to do. My good friend Will had just moved into an apartment a few months earlier and it was still cool to go over and have a few beers, smoke cigars, play cards, or whatever we wanted to do without having to worry about anyone bothering us or getting upset. He had a sweet set-up too: a pool table stood in the dining room, dartboard off to the side, and a built in bar with stools over in the corner. A total bachelor pad, one I had always dreamed of in my younger years. The only thing missing was a kegerator, which I understood was in the works for the near future.
We started the night off with beer and cigars. The spare bedroom was set up to be a smoking area and we hung out there while draining a good portion of a case. Reminiscing about the good old days, we then moved into the other room, watched some TV, and began playing some poker. Sitting around the only table in the house, the bar stools fit perfectly around the pool table. Will announced the $20 buy in, which at 5 people would have been a nice little pot. I reach into my pocket, only to pull out two singles and a few dimes. I look at my friend Vince, who seemed to be sifting through a handful of pocket lint. We ask if it is ok to just throw in the money at the end, which was always usually agreed to, so we were both really playing for the pot at that point.
Somewhere during the first few hands, one of the guys mentioned they were starving, and suggested chipping in for some food. Vince and I looked at each other, knowing we are both broke, but agreed anyways. After all, one of us would win the money, lending some to the other to cover both our asses. Everyone nominated me to phone in the order, and being drunk I let it all out: four pizzas, a hundred wings, a couple of orders of fries, and a stromboli. The total was close to a hundred bucks. I get back to the table and slip back into the game for another hand. I look down at my chips, and then at Vince’s, and we both concur that there is no way in hell we are winning. I motion for him to lean over, and explain in as few words as possible to convey our current situation. No money, no chance of winning, and having to come up with a lot of dough in the next 20 minutes, we were dead.
Vince, a genius at the time, asks me to go help him get something out of the car, and assures everyone we would be right back. I play along, too drunk to even realize what his plans were, until he started running for my car. We both hop in, and he yells to get the hell out of there. Somewhat with it, I turn the key, put it in drive, and hit the gas, only to be stopped with a hard, quick smack into the rear of the car in front of us. I throw it in reverse, now panic stricken that I hit a car, and smash into the front end of a car behind me. Freaking out at the wheel and not a fan of on street parallel parking, I put the car back in drive, clipping the rear of the car in front of me again as I screech our of my parking space. We left the other three there with the pot $40 short, and a $100 food delivery on its way, which I forgot to give them the details about.
Of course, looking back it was a horrible thing to do, and I did call the next day and apologized profusely. They ended up paying for most of the food bill from the $60 pot, and Will had to cough up the rest of it. It took a few days, but he eventually got over it and actually saw some of the humor in it. We are still good friends to this day. Of course, I got my payback somewhere down the road, but that is what friendship is all about.
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