These Are My Friends

-- I want four girls to do this. Any takers? --

"These Are My Friends"

These are my friends

Three girls
All around my age
Social
Smart
Pretty

These are my friends

Four twenty-something girls
Out for a night on the town
The comparisons to Sex and the City
Are endless

Each of us thinks we’re the Carrie
Truth be told, we’re all Charlottes
With hints of Miranda

Except for Lucy
She’s a wannabe Charlotte
Who calls herself a Carrie
But is secretly a Samantha

For those of you who don’t follow television
That means Lucy’s a slut

Lucy’s slutty
Reese is shallow
Trish is annoying
And I’m the normal one

Although if you ask any of them
I’m the judgmental one

Which I suppose is fair

If a man were to approach the table
In this very nice bar
And start up a conversation with us

By the way
This would never happen
Since whereas any one of us is mildly intimidating
Altogether we look like the Hydra

However

If a man were to brave a trip over
And begin to speak with us
The following would occur

Lucy would try to draw attention to her mouth
By licking her lips and opening wide
To take in her wimpy cocktail
That she claims gets her drunk
When really her tolerance level
Is higher than that of an Irish farmer

She’d slide her tongue across her teeth
Giggle a lot, and touch his hand when possible
Let her hair slide down so that it almost touches the table
And maybe if she was feeling really bold
She’d let her fingers go low
And tap lightly on his knee

Later
She’d take him home
And perform various sexual acts on him
Be as vocal as possible
Faking every single second of it
Since Lucy is, at this point
Pretty much dead to sexual stimulation
Due to psychological hang-ups
And the fact that she was allegedly molested by her uncle
A story me and the girls doubt to this day
Then she would coyly suggest that Mr. Man could stay the night
He wouldn’t
He’d leave
She’d cry
And considering cutting herself
But she wouldn’t
Because she doesn’t have the guts
And because her skin is too perfect to harm

So she’d shower
Scrubbing herself hard and fast
To the point where she’d get herself worked up
Into another sexual frenzy
And end up calling her ex-boyfriend, Raje
Who we all hate
Because she knows that while he smells
And can only last for a few seconds
At least he’ll stay the night
Because it’ll get him out of his mother’s house
And that’s worth some forced cuddling

That is my friend Lucy

Reese would look Mr. Man over
As soon as he walked to our table
She'd see that his tie wouldn’t be done properly
She’d note that it was probably tied at an earlier date
Taken off without breaking the knot
Once whatever event it was worn to was over
Put in a drawer
Then taken out again
And put on without tying a new knot

This would displease her
She can’t respect men
Who recycle their knots

She’d notice his scuffed shoes
The bald spot at the top of his head
Minute though it may appear
The slight wrinkles around his eyes
The way he uses the word ‘fantastic’ too much
The slight paunch around his stomach area
The fraudulent quality of his laughter
The lack of muscle everywhere on his body
The fact that his stories seem exaggerated
The fact that he has no ass

And she’d dismiss him
Go home
Call her ex-boyfriend, Liam
Who we all hate
And have him come over
Liam couldn’t tell you where New York is
On a map of New York
He’s an awful boyfriend
He’d make a worse husband
Yet Reese has accepted two of his proposals
Breaking both of them off
After finding out that Liam had cheated on her
Once with her cousin
She can’t quite seem to break it off with him
However
Because he’s fun to walk into parties with
He’s got a gorgeous smile
And an even better body
And there aren’t many women
Who don’t want to sleep with him
Those who say they don’t find him attractive
Are either lying or lesbians
And even the lesbians are lying

So Liam will come over
Give Reese amazing sex
Yet again
And she’ll consider getting back with him
Even though it will infuriate us
Her closest friends
Because it will also bring out the envy in us
Her biggest rivals

That is my friend Reese

Trish will start to talk the minute Mr. Man walks over
She will talk and talk and talk
About herself
Her job
Her car
Her bills
Her allergies
Her tropical fish

Where she went to school
What she majored in
What kind of music she likes
Who her gynecologist is
Why she moved to the city
When she plans on going to grad school

Mr. Man will go home with Lucy
Trish will go home
And call her stupid gays
I have been given special permission
By my gay friends
Who are not stupid
To call Trish’s gay friends
Stupid gays

Trish will tell her stupid gays
That Lucy specifically tried to steal Mr. Man
She’d be wrong
They would tell her she’s right
She’d tell them she’s fat and needs to lose weight
She does
They’d tell her she doesn’t and that she’s gorgeous
She’d tell them men just hate her
They do
They’d tell her men suck
Which is sort of funny
Considering after all
That even gay men are men

She’ll avoid straight bars for the next month
No matter how much we would beg her to go out
And she’ll get a group of her stupid gays to go with her
Because she covers them
And lets them run up a bar tab on her
Even though at the end of the night
They take off with their newly acquired one night stands
And leave her to drive home
Drunk and sobbing

Once she makes it home
On any of those given nights
She’ll knock on her neighbor’s door
A man too old for her
With two kids in high school
And back child support bills
An ex-wife who was a lovely woman
Turned bitter by his asshole-ery
A man we would hate
If we knew about him
Which we do
Because of another neighbor in the building
Who works with Lucy
Who told her about the late-night visits
But Trish won't dare tell us
For fear we'll judge her
Which we would

Trish will knock on this man's door
And beg for sex

Some nights she’ll get it
Some nights she won’t
When she gets it
It will be rough
Much too rough
And dirty

Delinquent Daddy will reenact scenes
From movies in his vast pornography collection
He’ll suggest threeways
And Trish will cry
He’ll suggest toys
And Trish will cry
He’ll suggest she lose weight
And Trish will go home and throw up
But won’t take on a full-on eating disorder
Because it’s just too time-consuming

This is my friend Trish

When Mr. Man walks over to the table
I won’t say a word
I’ll watch Lucy lick her lips
I’ll notice Reese rolling her eyes
I’ll listen as Trish prattles on endlessly
And I’ll remember those three boys in college
Who thought girls could be turned against one another
With a little maneuvering
And the promise of a handsome boyfriend

Normally, that’s true
But not when I’m involved

The boys all worked at the same restaurant
Piccarelli’s, Italian place
They were waiters
All very sharp
Not so much mentally
But they knew how to dress
When they weren’t dressed for work
Which wasn't very often
As they thought black pants and aprons
Highlighted all their features

Anthony went with Lucy
He told her that I tried to get him in bed
And that he turned me down
Lucy believed him

Vincent went with Reese
He told her that I tried to get him in bed
And that he turned me down
Reese believed him

Christopher went with Trish
He told her that I got him in bed
And that he was sorry
And she believed him
And forgave him

Chris always went that extra mile
But then again
So do I

When they found them in the restaurant
They were all naked
Tangled up in each other
Like human pretzels
On the floor of the dining room
In full view of the large window
Looking out onto the parking lot

There was liquor everywhere
Disgusting magazines
And enough drugs
To take down a small elephant

Sodomite partying
A total scandal
They ended up closing Piccarelli’s
And the girls
Who had stopped speaking to me
Suddenly needed me more than ever
Embarrassed that they had believed
I would ever go after their boyfriends
Who were clearly engaged
In some sick, underground filth ring

They had clearly used my friends
As covers, beards if you will
And the girls were humiliated
And humbled, needless to say
It was obvious the boys had made up the stories about me
Because I was onto their scheme
And would have exposed them

We never talk about those boys anymore
It’s not something anyone cares to bring up

I would sit at the table
Listening to a man
If a man were to walk over
And my mind would wander

I would think about Lucy’s ex, Raje
And how one day
He’s going to be found in his mother’s house
Probably in her bed
Not breathing
Overdose
On the same stuff that took the three waiters
He’ll be in a puddle of his own urine
And lying next to him
Will be Mommie Dearest
Still alive
But heartbroken

I would think about Liam
And how he’d be found in the gym
Another overdose
But this time
On steroids
He’d have lost his mind
His pretty head full of blonde hair
Would be shaved
Including his eyebrows
He’d have applied lipstick to his face
A messy streak covering most of his mouth
Blush, mascara, and clip-on earrings
He'd even be wearing a slinky little thong
And perhaps a bracelet
A charm bracelet

He’d be a pretty little thing
Laid out on a weight machine

I would think about Delinquent Daddy
And how he’d be found in a pile of videos
All his nasty little movies
But not an overdoes this time
I’m not that stupid
He’d have done himself in
With a shotgun
Guilt-ridden
Over what he’d done to his ex-wife
His kids
And Trish

They’d find him with photos of little boys
And the life insurance would go to his children
Who don’t remember him
Not fondly, at least

That’s what I’d think about
With Mr. Man standing there

I’d be thinking
These are my friends, Mr. Man

Not yours

And I’d take a sip of my drink
And look at my girls
And feel that urge come over me

A feeling of sisterhood
Solidarity
Security

These poor weak little things

These are my friends