I realized while I was shaving yesterday that I missed my friend Aparna’s dance recital. By a week. A week Mike? Yes, a whole week, I couldn’t believe it either, what a deadbeat. The only funny thing was that because I was shaving, I happened to be looking in the mirror at the time; it’s very rare to be able to see yourself realizing what an ass you are. Kinda like a poor man’s out-of-body experience, recommended for the budding agnostic who wants to know what all the hubbub’s about.
A week. A week a week a week. Wow. Just standing in the mirror like a clown, getting my thoughts together for my own show that night, when my half-assed neurons finally got around to firing…
“…Yeah, tomorrow afternoon should be fun, gonna catch this dance recital, get me some culture… I just gotta print a metro schedule, bus should let me off right near Oakton Middle School, what time was that again? …wait, did that flier say the 13th? Hmm. That would be curious, because today’s the 19th…ummmm, oh.”
How embarrassing. Not just that I couldn’t make it, but that I didn’t even remember to send a message later. It would’ve probably been okay if I remembered Monday, maybe even Tuesday. By Wednesday, the apology window’s starting to close and after that it’s best to have an excuse that involves serious bodily injury, an ailing loved one who took you out for fishing and baseball games when you were a kid, or a case of amnesia (if it works for “Days of Our Lives” and “24”, then why not me?).
It wouldn’t be so bad either if I hadn’t sent just Aparna a message the Friday before saying how much I was looking forward to catching the show, having missed last year’s as well. Yeah, I was looking forward to it, so much that I completely forgot to come or at least acknowledge that I missed it. What a jerk. I am literally stupefied at the inferior quality of my friendship right now.
Maybe I have Alzheimer’s. Maybe I should say I have Alzheimer’s. Maybe I should pretend not to recognize Aparna the next time I see her, like the toll of 27 years has turned my mind into tapioca, and all in the span of a week no less, it’s a real medical marvel when you think about it. Maybe I should pretend to have sustained a debilitating head trauma that’s left me in a semi-vegetative state. She’ll be so distracted watching me relearn how to use a spoon so I can eat applesauce by myself… how could anyone expect a guy to find Oakton in that shape, right?
Maybe I should just man up. Aparna, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry I missed your recital, why you’re my friend is beyond me sometimes. It may not that big a deal to you because you’re so busy and might not have even noticed, but it’s a big deal to me because I told you I’d be there. Feel free to post a blog about d-bag friends who forget stuff and then apologize through their blog because they’re too much of a punk to do it in person, or you can do one about d-bag friends who are so narcisstic they think it must’ve rocked your world if they don’t come out to something. Either way, if it makes you feel any better you can kick me in the groin from behind next time you’re in the neighborhood, it’s more painful when the guy doesn’t see it coming. But forreal doe, I’m sorry again A-parn, I really will try to do better next time. By better, I mean I’ll at least remember to send a one-line apology email within 3-4 business days.
“Hey, uh, sorry I missed your thing, you know how it is. – Mike”
My name is Mike and there’s a reason nobody asks my opinion.
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