Dear Friends & Family… On Driving

Dear Friends & Family,
I know Hallmark and Whitman’s would have you believe in such a thing as “unrequited love.” Well, I’m here to tell you, that is a fallacy. I’m not much of a romantic, but when in question, I will do just about anything for my friends. My friends are my family. I love my friends. Well, the closest I come to feeling love is how I feel about my friends.
That, dear readers, was all thrown into question last night.
As a dutiful roommate and good friend, when my buddy asked me to drive him to West Hollywood, I said, “sure, why not?”
Here’s why not.
After my car died, we finally got a charge, and we were ready to go. After a laborious make-up session (not on my part… I sat in the car and waited) we were finally ready to go. From North Hollywood to West Hollywood? Roughly 45 minutes.
The two folks I was giving a ride to were very appreciative and as we neared their final destination, I heard one of them say, “Not much more to go, we’re almost there!”
To which I gruffly replied, “No, no, no, you’re almost there. I still hafta get back home.”
I dropped them off, and they were very gracious.
I then proceeded to spend the next hour in my car, trying to drive the 5 miles to get back home.
That being said, I love my friends dearly, but they are sadly mistaken if they think I’m going to spend all of my night driving anyone 5 miles away. I’d like to think I’m a good friend, but even friendship has limitations.
Don’t make the same mistake I did. Don’t drive to WeHo on Halloween night… for anyone.


Dear Bartender

Dear Bartender,
I know this is West Hollywood and your usual customers are probably clamoring for your attention, but this guy? Not into it.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure you’re a nice guy and I’m glad we formed that undying bond where we were both born in Ohio, but did you notice that lull after you said you were from Toledo after I explained I was born in Cincinnati?
Yeah, that’s the sound of casual disinterest.
More specifically, that’s the sound of me silently praying to God that the small talk portion of the evening is over and I can go back to reading my book.
No, seriously, I get it. You’re used to trying to chat people up.
It’s usually how you earn a decent tip. I respect that.
Only, here’s the thing. I’m much more likely to give you a better tip if you just stop talking to me and let me read my book and drink my Guinness.
Thank you.