Please Do Not Attempt to Set Me up With Your Friend

A fictional Friday morning G-Chat conversation.

“It’s another Friday. We did it. Yet again.”

“That we did. Go us. Might even slam that laptop shut a little early today. As a treat, if I can swing it.”

“Only about 30 or so more years before we can stop trying to make it to Fridays and the day of the week won’t matter all that much anymore.”

“For you, maybe. But I’ve made peace with the notion that I will most likely die at a desk. Or, if not a desk, in some position where work is at least in the back of my mind. I’m not entirely sure why I even bother contributing to my 401K. Seems like a fool’s errand, you know? I can’t imagine ever quitting this racket, rad as it might be to be in a position where i’m able to.”

“That’s dark, man.”

“I’m passionate about what I do. What can I say?”

“That might be even darker.”

“It’s not something I would recommend, but it is one way to live.”

“You’re bringing down my Friday vibes already and it’s barely 10 a.m.”

“Sorry.”

“You should be. Gotta keep the stoke!”

“I can try.”

“What’s on tap for the weekend?”

“Bushmills. Bottled, though. Consumed with a slightly alarming aggression and frequency. Been one of those weeks. How about you?”

“You know what I mean. What are your plans? Aside from imbibing alone?”

“Well, there’s a new season of Emily in Paris, so that should be pretty great mindless viewing. And I might go to the store to get some stuff to make a carbonara.”

“So, what you’re saying is you have no plans that involve putting on hard pants.”

“That would be accurate. No designs to leave my sanctum except for groceries and a little lake walk if I’m feeling feisty.”

“Well, I have something for you, if you so choose.”

“I wasn’t fishing for a loneliness salve. And no need to pity me. I’m perfectly happy with what I’ve got going on. Or, more accurately, what I don’t really have going on. Which is mostly by design.”

“I think we can agree you’re in a bit of a rut there, bud. A slump.”

“Shots fired! Far be it from me to say you’re wrong, though.”

“But what do we say?”

“You’re gonna make me say it?”

“I am.”

“Slumps are made for busting.”

“Precisely. And sometimes you need to get by with a little help from a friend. One who happens to have your best interests in mind.”

“I’m already thinking I should have made up some plans, but hey, lay it on me. What’s the proposition?”

“Max and I are thinking about having some people over tomorrow. Just kind of spur of the moment. Wanna show off the new house.”

“Well, that sounds like something I could get down with.”

“And I want to set you up with my friend.”

“That’s gonna be a hard no from me, dawg. I just remembered I have to wash my hair Saturday evening. So it does look like I’m booked. Really need to start putting that in my calendar.”

“Wow. You haven’t even let me tell you about her. I have a pitch prepared and everything.”

“I’m afraid if that happened I’d start to find the idea appealing and potentially worth pursuing, and I don’t want that to happen.”

“Right. God forbid you seize on something that might be ultimately good for you — that could even bring a little joy into your life. Which I, for one, believe you deserve.”

“I mean, I appreciate the gesture. Truly. But I think it’s a horrible idea.”

“How can you think that when you know literally nothing about the person?”

“Well, I’ve been set up before. And it has, as you can tell, never worked out.”

“I don’t think it not working out has to do with how you meet the person. I mean, not to be too blunt, but it’s not like the dalliances you’ve had through meeting people in literally any other way have worked out either.”

“Are you saying I’m the problem?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Well, if you were, I wouldn’t really disagree. I have, of course, considered this. A lot. But to be honest, this is more about you than it is me.”

“How so?”

“I’m trying to think about your best interests here.”

“Go on.”

“Well, if you were to set me up with your friend, you’re the one who’s going to have to hear about how it goes or does not go ad nauseam, and from both sides. Which could put you in a tricky situation.”

“Gosh. How unselfish. What a white-knighting martyr you are.”

“Where’s the lie, though?”

“I mean, it’s true, sure. But I also kind of live for that shit.”

“I know you do.”

“It’s not often you get to hear both sides of the story.”

“Jeez. Is this something you get off on? Do you really want that? Say I completely blow it, though. Or something else disastrous happens or doesn’t happen. You’re the one who’s going to get your ear talked off, probably in perpetuity, as you know I don’t get over literally anything quickly or easily. Also, I think it’s pretty much impossible to remain completely objective in that sort of situation. Or to not accidentally reveal something told to you in confidence to the other party involved.”

“I’m pretty sure I can handle it.”

“Well, I don’t know if I could. And I’d get annoying pretty quickly — keep prying for information you’re not permitted to give if you’re going to be a good friend. And vice versa, if she’s at all similar to me.”

“Do you think i would have come to you with this ignorant of what the fallout might be or what role I might play in the discourse you’re concocting about someone you not only do not yet know, but also know nothing about?

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be patronizing or anything. I’m just wary, is all.

“What if it goes absolutely swimmingly?”

“That’d be the bee’s knees, but what’re the odds?”

“Won’t you always wonder if you don’t try?”

“Well, sure, but I wonder about so many things. Think about them incessantly. I try to avoid this kind of behavior, but haven’t had much of a winning record on that front.”

“That I know. But don’t you want to at least hear a little bit about her? If it doesn’t seem like it could be a potential match, I’ll stop bothering you about it. No harm not foul. But, full disclosure, she’s open to the idea and maybe even a little bit excited since I’ve mentioned it to her, along with a little dossier about you.”

“What’d you tell her?”

“Not gonna reveal that information.”

“Goddamnit. Okay. Fine. What’s the CliffsNotes?”

“So, she’s a Bulls cheerleader.”

“What time should I be there tomorrow? Anything I can bring? What’s her drink of choice?”