When my buddies go radio silent, guess who gets the call? Me. This puts me in a difficult position. There are numerous reasons why my friends don’t want to speak to their women, few of which actually involve me. So, why call me?
Many would say it’s because I’m the responsible type. Others would say that if there’s debauchery, I’m usually either the cause of it or recording it. I’m 53, ladies. I’m no longer that pesky kid who leaves burning wads of dog turds on your front step.
I suppose by writing about this, some of these man-keepers will think twice before making me next-in-line when the call goes straight to voice mail. No skin off my knees. I hate my phone anyway. It’s more rude than convenient. However, I have created a handy guide that helps me respond to the orphaned wives.
When Mrs. Dickhead calls me if he’s standing right next to me with a blood-alcohol level so high that he’s flammable, here are my choices:
- Don’t answer it.
- Answer it, and act like I can’t hear anything she’s saying.
- Answer it, and make an excuse for him, such as he’s changing a flat, dealing with a horrible case of the squirts, or he’s retracing his steps because he thinks he left his phone on the roof of his car.
- Answer it, and hand it to him.
How I handle the call often depends on how prank-y I’m feeling. Sometimes, I like mayhem. Perhaps, I’m in the fortunate position to return some ball-breakery. I can do that. When asked where he is, my guide gives me the following response options:
- “Passed out on the floor next to me. Three men are about to pee on him. I’ll text you pictures.”
- “He’s riding a mechanical horsey in front of the grocery store.”
- “A ghastly woman just whisked him away by his penis.”
- “He has been deported.”
- “He’s closing a drug deal—twelve blue pills for the love of his life. My advice to you is to lube up, Sugar Cup.”
My friends have mixed reactions when wives call me. When asked, I usually admit to being a surrogate lover. They don’t believe me, which is somewhat hurtful. I think it would be a small, yet appropriate act of reciprocation for all the minutes I waste coming up with fresh lies.
There are occasions when a buddy’s daughter will contact me. Depending on her age, I may tone down my silliness, and say:
- “Daddy’s getting a tattoo.”
- “He’s at the shelter buying you a puppy.”
- “He’s right here but he doesn’t want to speak to you because he doesn’t love you anymore.”
Guess that makes me the troublemaker.
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