RB also related a story to me in Mayport that indicates his maturation is continuing well. It started when, several months back, he managed to snag a girlfriend that was neither in high school nor many years older than him. The relationship persisted, despite a clear realization by both RB and myself that it couldn't survive long-term. In May, RB actually tried to sever the ties twice, but was thwarted by having to attend a wedding with his girlfriend in upstate New York over Memorial Day weekend. Over dinner in Northport, I listened as he related these circumstances, and I calculated. When he was done, I asked, "All right, dude. You said this wedding is for one of her sorority friends. So they'll all be there. Are any of them attractive?"
"I think they're a mixed bag," replied RB.
I continued my line of questioning, "Are there any she doesn't like?"
"Probably."
I then hatched the idea my darker impulses had conceived: "What you need to do is find a hot one that hates her, and nail her at the reception. Sure, you'll have to find another way back to Long Island, but you break up with her, you get laid, and it's a great story. No downside." As I asked this, I reminded myself that it was a clear indication that the Submersible Death Trap is rubbing off on me a bit, or I'm simply becoming less of a nice person - not that it's necessarily a bad thing.
RB laughed, and promised to think about it. When he dropped me off at my parents' house, I reminded him of the idea with the closing "good luck banging a bridesmaid."
I called RB last weekend from Florida, and he happily told me that he did not pursue the option I'd laid out for him. Despite that, he managed to extricate himself from the relationship - and on amicable terms with his now ex-girlfriend. Both parties successfully deduced that it was better to proceed to the friend zone now and save big on trauma and heartache. I'm proud of RB for this, and am a bit surprised, to be honest. This is, after all, the guy who thought baseball and football were invented in the mid 80's or early 90's, and went to a whopping five senior proms - including three after we graduated high school. All he has to do now is move out of his parents' house and he'll be most of the way to being a normal adult. Big up to RB for successfully moving forward with his life, and here's hoping he can land a job that doesn't provide him nearly as much angst as Memphis does to me.
