A few years ago I had a work colleague named Justin. We became pretty good friends, we ate lunch with the same group of people every day and bonded over the misfortunes of others. I wasn’t a very good person back then. It was a special time.
Often, he’d say to me, “You’ve gotta meet my wife. You’d love her! She’d love you!”. In the back of my mind I’d think, yeah right, she’s probably some kind of faggot. I say this because I had another good friend who always told me the same thing. He claimed his wife was awesome and she’d be my next best friend. Well guess what? She wasn’t awesome. She was a faggot.
I’ve come to realize that usually there’s only one fun person in the couple. Normally one half sucks while the other takes up the slack and stays awesome. I’ve found this to be true time and time again, so I was really hesitant to meet Justin’s most assuredly skanky wife. Screw that cow.
I couldn’t avoid it forever, though. As Justin and I became better friends and started to share some friends in common, there was no way I could dodge them at cookouts and parties. If we did meet, she’d probably think I was trying to steal her man and demand that I keep my ho ass away from him. She might throw dip or potato salad on me, and then we’d engage in an awkward hair pulling match. Either that or she’d be so jealous of my stunning beauty that she’d kill herself, and who needs that shit on their conscience anyway? I had to face facts: my friendship with Justin was about to come to an end once his big steaming pile of wife lumbered into the picture.
Rebecca was her name, but Justin referred to her as Button. Button, the big lumbering faggot. I was ready to get it over with. Rip the band aid. I’d come to terms with it. My husband at the time suggested we have a party and invite them, and so we did. I figured it was best to get the bitch on my turf anyway. That way when the bean dip went to flying I could reasonably put her in a chokehold in front of her children and no one could say they blamed me.
It’s funny how things work out.
Before meeting Button at our cookout, I hadn’t written anything in a couple of years. In fact the very last thing I wrote was for Justin. He was going to be gone from work for a couple of weeks, so I thought it would be funny to keep a daily chronicle of what we ate that day, who said what to who, who was pissy, and who was wearing something stupid. You know…the standard stuff we’d talk about had he been there. I didn’t want him to feel as if he’d missed out on anything. I’m very thoughtful like that. He’d mentioned to me that his wife thought it was really funny, which I appreciated even coming from the hussy who was about to steal my joy.
Fast forward to the party. When Justin showed up, he wasn’t with his Shrek-bride, but instead with a model looking beauty.
Must be his sister. I was sure of it.
To my surprise, this woman was Button, and turns out she was fucking delightful. She was immediately hilarious, which is a quality I value above saving babies and curing cancer, and she was really different. The good different that you rarely find in people. The different that lets you be whoever you are, she’s gonna be whoever she is, and together you’re gonna be some really funny bitches.
This woman was a complete stranger, yet she sparked something in me that made me need to write. She really encouraged me on just from reading that one little piece of shit memoire I wrote for Justin, and she’s the reason I started writing again and I’m writing now. Anytime I lose my mojo, one simple conversation with her can ignite a nonsensical stream of consciousness that last for weeks. That’s magical shit right there. Also, that means you should forward any complaints you have over to her.
It’s rare that God sends us one of these people, much less two or three. Now, He’ll send us plenty of assholes to teach us things, but every now and then you’ll get a true gift. I’ve been lucky to have many very special people like her come along, and so today I’d just like to celebrate friendship and tell you all to quit being so damn judgy. My fat ass nearly missed out on a blessing because of it. So go be awesome to someone today. And remember, lumbering faggots lives matter.