As me and Scarlett were looking for affordable housing around town yesterday, a wave of sadness hit me. The Bait is graduating (early) and when he leaves, I lose my roommate and one of the handful of close guy friends I have. Hence getting an early jump on house hunting.
He’ll be headed to Boston for grad school in June and I’ll miss him. To add some salt in it, Pippi will more than likely go with him.
We’ve known each other since we were 13 and have been friends since we were 16. It’s funny to think about now but we honestly disliked each other for a long while.
He thought I was nothing but a hood who didn’t belong in honours classes. Let’s just say I had a bad reputation in middle school.
I thought he was an arrogant prick who took himself far too seriously.
We’re mature enough now to admit that I did have an attitude problem and that he really was an arrogant little shitstain (his words, not mine).
When people get to know both of us they wonder how me and him can be such good friends. We’ll be the first to admit that all we really have in common is that we are both smart and we are both Catholic. Then came the trip to Italy in the summer of 2004 and that was the birth of our friendship. What brought us together?
An arcade game called House of the Dead 3. Killing zombies with shotguns, hearing the crowd that had gathered cheer on the “gun loving Americans”, somehow in the midst of this we became friends. Don’t ask me how.
I won’t have someone to rib about their mishaps in the kitchen.
I won’t have someone to laugh at as they and my puppy have a power struggle.
So to The Bait…
You taught me how to surf.
I finally got you to see how crazy Pippi was about you.
You sponsored me for Confirmation.
I’ve tried to teach you how to cook and found much amusement in how truly inept you were.
I’ll miss having someone to argue politics with living right across the hallway from me.
I’ll miss the insightful and random conversations me, you, and Pippi have on our way to Mass on Sunday mornings.
I’ll miss our heavily one-sided wrestling matches.
So good luck you lazy bastard. And you had best bring your ass back for the holidays or I will come looking for you.
communist radical liberal brother from another mother,
They wanted you to have this picture so you can put faces to the stories. Along with this picture was a note on my dresser:
Kendalicious, get a scanner. ASAP. Love, Pippi
Faith has only lived with me and The Bait for about a week and a half and in that time she has firmly established her place in the pecking order. Basically, we are her pets and she only keeps us around to entertain her and keep her fed.
However, my puppy seems to take a sadistic pleasure in finding ways to piss off The Bait. Such as the Alarm Incident. She snuck into his room a few minutes before the normal time his clock went off and lies in wait on his desk. The moment his alarm starts blaring, she dives and headbutts him. Hard.
I scold her but then she whimpers and looks up at me with sad puppy eyes. I melt every single time. Yeah, my dog owns me.
Faith stalking her prey, The Bait. She smells the bacon. She wants it. And she will have it.
(Caption courtesy of icanhascheezburger.com)