The Blast Most Delicious
I have written about my friend Ben in the past. I'm always wary of writing about Ben here, because I'm not sure if I can convey his special brand of thinking on the blog. But this story isn't really about Ben and his bizarre antics. It's about me putting Ben on blast, a most supreme and incredible blast, about three weeks ago.
It all began four Saturdays ago, when Ben and I agreed to hang out the following Sunday. He said he would call me as soon as he woke up, and he would get on the train to my house so we could do the usual thing, probably play video games and watch movies. I have known Ben for a long time now, and I understand that a promise from Ben to call or come through is about as good as a Canadian quarter at the peep show. So I made plans with another friend of mine to come by and essentially do the same thing: play video games and watch movies. I figured that on the outside chance that Ben called Sunday morning, we could all hang out together.
Unsurprisingly, Ben did not call Sunday morning. I wasn't really upset, but I decided I would give Ben a call around noon to lay a guilt trip on him (and hopefully get some more amazing quotables). He didn't pick up, but moments later I get a text message from Jimmy's roommate that tells me they are at the beach together, and Ben is telling his girlfriend that he is on the way to my house, while seagulls squawk and people cavort in the background. Coincidentally, Ben is lying to his girlfriend about going to my house while I am calling him to be a pain in the ass! I was amused by this, but forgot it as my friend came by and we spent the day as planned.
On Monday, I decided that the next time I saw Ben, I would put him on blast.
It was not a decision made out of anger or for revenge, but because I saw an opportunity to put Ben on a supremely delicious blast that could possibly go down in history as one of the greatest blasts to have ever been put on a person. I told people about my impending ether, and made it clear that I would put Ben on blast whether his girlfriend was nearby or not. Obviously, though, if I put Ben on blast in front of his girlfriend, it would be twice as succulent.
I rehearsed my intentions over the next few days. I knew I would bring it up casually, and then be sure to add that his word is not bond; that despite all of his claims that he is "a man," he is not being a man at all if he can't follow through on the simplest promise. It would be a great blast because this is something that is discussed among everyone that knows Ben: even though he claims to have all the virtues of manhood, he has no ability to meet things head-on. I decided I would not use the fact that he lied to his girlfriend while I called him on the day we planned to get together, unless it was absolutely necessary.
That Friday, Ben's roommate had a party at his house, and I was in attendance. Ben and his girlfriend were at the movies, and would return home around 10:30 PM. Everyone at the party knew of the impending blast. I bode my time, had a few drinks, and waited for the inevitable hour. Ben and his girlfriend came home on schedule, and we exchanged pleasantries for a little while. After about twenty minutes, I opened fire.
"Ben, what happened last Sunday? You were supposed to call me"
All of the color instantly drained from Ben's face, and he began to stammer. In a voice barely audible by trained dogs, he started to say something like "The sun...the sun was calling, Reggie." Simultaneously, his girlfriend turned in her seat and gave Ben a stare that would have rivaled Samuel Jackson's. "You didn't go to Reggie's?" she stated, rather than queried. I knew that I would not have to mention that he lied to his girl while denying my call that Sunday.
I continued: "You said you would call me, but you never did. I even called you at noon and you didn't pick up. That's not being a man. Your word is not bond." Ben was still trying to compose himself, mumbling an apology and gamely putting his hand on my shoulder in a show of friendship. Ben's girlfriend then gets up from her seat, walks to Ben's bedroom, and stands in the open doorway glaring at Ben. "I think you are needed elsewhere," I said, and Ben hung his head and walked solemnly into his bedroom, the door slamming shut behind him. He was bawled out for five hours, effectively ending his evening.
In all, my blast took less than two minutes, far less time than I had planned. But the effect was more severe than I had hoped. Ben's girlfriend was honed into his potential for lying, and he was caught in the crossfire. Later, Ben told his roommate that I had done him a favor, because his girl suggested that they see less of each other for a while. But I know that putting Ben in that spot, I turned his labyrinth of lying into a prison. A prison which unfortunately lasted only five hours of conversational torture.
It all began four Saturdays ago, when Ben and I agreed to hang out the following Sunday. He said he would call me as soon as he woke up, and he would get on the train to my house so we could do the usual thing, probably play video games and watch movies. I have known Ben for a long time now, and I understand that a promise from Ben to call or come through is about as good as a Canadian quarter at the peep show. So I made plans with another friend of mine to come by and essentially do the same thing: play video games and watch movies. I figured that on the outside chance that Ben called Sunday morning, we could all hang out together.
Unsurprisingly, Ben did not call Sunday morning. I wasn't really upset, but I decided I would give Ben a call around noon to lay a guilt trip on him (and hopefully get some more amazing quotables). He didn't pick up, but moments later I get a text message from Jimmy's roommate that tells me they are at the beach together, and Ben is telling his girlfriend that he is on the way to my house, while seagulls squawk and people cavort in the background. Coincidentally, Ben is lying to his girlfriend about going to my house while I am calling him to be a pain in the ass! I was amused by this, but forgot it as my friend came by and we spent the day as planned.
On Monday, I decided that the next time I saw Ben, I would put him on blast.
It was not a decision made out of anger or for revenge, but because I saw an opportunity to put Ben on a supremely delicious blast that could possibly go down in history as one of the greatest blasts to have ever been put on a person. I told people about my impending ether, and made it clear that I would put Ben on blast whether his girlfriend was nearby or not. Obviously, though, if I put Ben on blast in front of his girlfriend, it would be twice as succulent.
I rehearsed my intentions over the next few days. I knew I would bring it up casually, and then be sure to add that his word is not bond; that despite all of his claims that he is "a man," he is not being a man at all if he can't follow through on the simplest promise. It would be a great blast because this is something that is discussed among everyone that knows Ben: even though he claims to have all the virtues of manhood, he has no ability to meet things head-on. I decided I would not use the fact that he lied to his girlfriend while I called him on the day we planned to get together, unless it was absolutely necessary.
That Friday, Ben's roommate had a party at his house, and I was in attendance. Ben and his girlfriend were at the movies, and would return home around 10:30 PM. Everyone at the party knew of the impending blast. I bode my time, had a few drinks, and waited for the inevitable hour. Ben and his girlfriend came home on schedule, and we exchanged pleasantries for a little while. After about twenty minutes, I opened fire.
"Ben, what happened last Sunday? You were supposed to call me"
All of the color instantly drained from Ben's face, and he began to stammer. In a voice barely audible by trained dogs, he started to say something like "The sun...the sun was calling, Reggie." Simultaneously, his girlfriend turned in her seat and gave Ben a stare that would have rivaled Samuel Jackson's. "You didn't go to Reggie's?" she stated, rather than queried. I knew that I would not have to mention that he lied to his girl while denying my call that Sunday.
I continued: "You said you would call me, but you never did. I even called you at noon and you didn't pick up. That's not being a man. Your word is not bond." Ben was still trying to compose himself, mumbling an apology and gamely putting his hand on my shoulder in a show of friendship. Ben's girlfriend then gets up from her seat, walks to Ben's bedroom, and stands in the open doorway glaring at Ben. "I think you are needed elsewhere," I said, and Ben hung his head and walked solemnly into his bedroom, the door slamming shut behind him. He was bawled out for five hours, effectively ending his evening.
In all, my blast took less than two minutes, far less time than I had planned. But the effect was more severe than I had hoped. Ben's girlfriend was honed into his potential for lying, and he was caught in the crossfire. Later, Ben told his roommate that I had done him a favor, because his girl suggested that they see less of each other for a while. But I know that putting Ben in that spot, I turned his labyrinth of lying into a prison. A prison which unfortunately lasted only five hours of conversational torture.
posted by Reggie Hemingway at
10:01 PM
2 Comments:
you run the set up with minimal effort and she runs him through the wringer
homewrecker
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