My friend is leaving this 'lil outpost of hell in the Great Grey North to move to Connecticut. I'm of the opinion that he's going to stick out like a sore thumb there and have some difficulties adjusting. But I'm keeping my piehole shut about his impending misery.
Let's see how much change he's introducting into his life right now. New job, check. New house, check. New baby, check. Yup, the wifey-poo was supposed to have her c-section this morning at 7:30 am EST. Haven't heard anything yet, but I figure all is well as this is the second spud she's having.
I'm trying to come to some reconciliation that I probably won't talk to him anymore. It was bad enough when he had his first kid and only got worse when we moved across town. He couldn't do the drop by while pretending to walk the kid and sit out on the patio and suck beer and discuss philosophy and all that was right with the world.
Oh sure we'll email, and maybe swap amusing greeting cards on major holidays or birthdays, and we'll always have Paris. (Just kidding about Paris there kids...and I meant the wannabe Olympic site not the skanky hotel heiress).
But we won't have the kind of hijinx like we did at dinner last night. We had to eat at a time so early only old people eat to get the early bird because the wife has to fast for 12 hours before the cutting began. I talked the waitress into free desert for the baby because it was almost his birthday.
We also told the waitress that I was the sperm donor because my friend had a narrow urethera. "He's like a coffee stir stick," I volunteered to the waitress while my co-conspirators were reduced to tears. She had only confused looks for the table but maybe she can look it up later.