Friday, February 6, 2009

For once, it wasn't the French

If my husband, Chuck, and his best friend were dogs and they died and went to Doggie Heaven, they would run and frolic and sniff each other’s butts in all the euphoric glory that non-sexual but intimate contact can bring two men who are in love with each other but don’t want to make out.

Whew. I’ve wanted to say that for years.

Now that you know that Chuck is in non-sexual love with his best friend, you should also know that Chuck was very hurt when he read someone’s comment from my last post that said “Chuck’s best friend is a dick…”

After I was done holding him, I gently reminded Chuck that over the last 12 years, his best friend has been a dick. When I first came along, he referred to me as the nameless “Chuck’s girlfriend”—for almost a year. If he wanted to hang out but Chuck was hanging out with me, he’d have a tantrum. He told me flat out that he liked Chuck’s ex better.

And then there was the bag of rocks.

I don’t know if you’ve ever known someone who wears rocks around his or her neck, but Chuck was the first person I’d ever met who wore a totem bag—and I thought it was the weirdest thing ever. But if you saw that pouch against his tan Magnum PI chest, you’d overlook it too.

Chuck’s best friend also thought the rock bag was the weirdest thing ever. Sadly, this shared sentiment did little to bring us together. (Because emotionally he is equivalent to a pre-schooler.)

Anyway, fast-forward to 2002, when Chuck and I took a vacation to Paris.

Day one. Sacré-Coeur.

Chuck: This is boring.

Me: Do you smell something funny?

Chuck: Yes, French people.

Day three. Zara (what, you think I only wanted to see Parisian monuments?)

Chuck: Kiss me.

Me: No. You stink.

Chuck: Come on.

Me: Did you buy French cologne made with vomit?

Day five. Bateaux-Mouches.

Chuck: Kiss me.

Me: You smell so bad I think I might throw up.

Chuck: Come on.

Me: Oh God, stop the mouche. I need le bucket.

Day seven. Air France.

Chuck: I can’t take it anymore. What the hell is that smell?

Me: People are looking at us.

Chuck [touching his neck]: My totem bag is wet.

Me: I think we should break up.

Chuck [sniffing his rock bag]: That mother fucker!

Chuck opened the bag and out came blobs of moldy cheese, along with some raisins. Suddenly he understood why his best friend had wanted to borrow his totem bag right before we left on our trip.

He thought it was funny. I wanted to kick Chuck’s best friend in the nuts.

Until Chuck said sadly, “I guess I’ll have to throw it away.”

If our lives were growth charts, this is where I would make a notation that Chuck’s best friend rose 0.00091876 points in the amount I was able to tolerate him. And if you’re wondering why you don’t know Chuck’s best friend’s name, it’s because I live by tit-for-tat and he hasn’t earned it yet.*

* Okay, not really. We’ve gotten to be really good friends.


Leanne said...

Hee hee hee. I think I might like this friend. If nothing else he has a wickedly good sense of humor.

Michele said...

LOL. My husband had a best friend/roommate when we met. Boy, was Roommate mad when JR spent more and more time with me and less and less with him. Now that Roommate has married with kids he's real friendly like.

Thanks for visiting the blog today. Red panties are cool for Go Red for Women Day. In fact, really very appropriate.

Nicole said...

That's funny! My husband has a few friends I could see him frolicking about with if they were dogs... *funny*

Suzi said...

My hubby isn't able to handle more than one friend at a time. In fact I think he only has 2 friends, but not a constant bond. Weird. I think he has some social probs.......

Julia said...

This is a total tear jerker. Belly laugh. Great funny post. I am so glad I found your blog, in totally a non-sexual way you know.

HumorSmith said...

You are hilarious as usual. Love it. And have you accepted my invitation and applied at yet?

mrsbear said...

Tell me you only became really good friends after you beat his ass for the moldy cheese incident. Yuck.

Dto3 said...

Totem bag?

Frogs in my formula said...

Suzi, my husband laughed out loud at your comment.

Heather said...

Well, this just reminds me that "boys" are stupie!!!

laughingatchaos said...

That first paragraph is about the best thing I've read in a LONG time.

kyooty said...

oh that's a good story. My hubbie's Man friend from when we were dating called me a gold digger. I'm not sure you can gold dig from a man on unemployment benefits while you work your butt off to pay for a wedding but...

Keely said...

lol!! Hubby doesn't have friends like that (he has friends, really. Just not like that) but I've dated guys that did. You know, the kind that made a point of telling you "bros before hos!".

Um....yeah. We're just going out for COFFEE.

Marinka said...

That is absolutely hysterical. I think I love Chuck's best friend (hey, how come it's not ok for CBF to refer to you as Chuck's girlfriend, but it is ok for you to refer to CBF as CBF? Unfair!)

(and yes, of course I'm only saying this because I want to be safe when CBF snaps).

p.s. What happened on Day 6 of the Paris trip?

PPS I can't believe you went to Zara.

Stacy's Random Thoughts said...

My hubby has a best friend like that - they lost touch for quite a number of years but recently reconnected. Probably a good thing he lives a few states away...they chat on the phone and it's like they have their own 'man language'. Can't imagine what it'd be like in person! LOL!!

FUNNY story! Blech moldy cheese, but something I know my friends totally would have done...LOL!!

Temple said...

Boy humor...why does it ALWAYS involve bodily noises or bad smells...or the combo of the two? ;)

We all have our vices. Mine are just...bulkier

I've been away from this blog for awhile. I know . But see, we are trying to move. Just thinking about moving is hard, but actually tr...