For two years, two excrutiating years, my good friend, Marc, dated one of the biggest self-absorbed bitches ever to roam the planet. Her name was Kelli, and she lacked, IS lacking, every social grace there is, and she loves herself to an extent usually reserved for divas. To converse with her is to converse entirely ABOUT her, and it only took me three meetings with Kelli to ascertain, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was an uber-bitch, or, as Cartman on South Park might sing: "She's a bitch, she's a bitch, she's a big, big bitch."
Did I mention she's a bitch?
Well, anyway, during their courtship, Marc disappeared. He disappeared from his friends, and he disappeared from his family. He disappeared from everyone of whom Kelli didn't approve. This was a mixed blessing. One the one hand, we couldn't hang out with Marc, but on the other hand we didn't have to deal with Kelli, who, it was discovered almost immediately, was equally despised by all of Marc's friends and family. It wasn't just me. This girl is universally reviled.
Late in their relationship, after Melissa and I started dating, we dropped by Marc's apartment to say "hi." Not surprisingly, Melissa picked up on the Kelli bitch vibe within three seconds of speaking to her. It went something like this: Kelli started talking about herself (again), Marc interrupted to say something, and Kelli smacked Marc in the face with the back of her hand. Hard. Marc reacted much like a dog that had been tapped on the snout, but he didn't say anything.
Marc is a "Welcome" mat. He's a square of old carpet on which you leave your dirty boots. He's a 6'6" giant who hesitates before swatting a fly. He'll do anything for anyone he considers a friend. His friends and family know this, and we go out of our way not to take advantage of his gentle and self-sacrificing nature. Kelli, on the other hand, used and abused his gentleness with reckless abandon, and it pissed me off to no end each and every time I saw it happening.
Kelli wanted rollerblades. Marc bought them for her. Kelli wanted golf clubs. Marc bought them for her. Kelli wanted a new car. Marc made the downpayment and co-signed for it. Even after they finally, FINALLY, broke up, after Kelli decided to break up with Marc because SHE wanted to date other guys (although all evidence pointed to her dating other guys way before that), she continued to live in Marc's apartment.
Marc prides himself on being "a nice guy," which he is, to a fault. But, Marc doesn't see it that way. He thinks being a nice guy to such an extreme is somehow a badge of honor. Fine. Whatever. But, I learned last night that there are limits to his nice guy persona.
Ever since Kelli and Marc "officially" broke up, he and I have gone out for drinks and trivia quite often to reintroduce him to the world he had voluntarily cut himself out of for two years. For the past four months, we've enjoyed more evenings at Buffalo Wild Wings than I can remember. All the while, Marc was covertly still at Kelli's beck and call, going out of his way to do things for her even though they were broken up, even though she was going through more men than Liz Taylor.
On Sunday night, Marc and I were supposed to go out to our usual haunt for trivia and beer, but he cancelled because he was going to hang out with his little nephew and niece. I was actually somewhat relieved to hear that, seeing as how I was still feeling the after effects of Jim's birthday the night before.
Last night, Marc and I did manage to go to Buffalo Wild Wings for Monday Night Football. As we sat there, enjoying ourselves, our waitress, Joanna, came up to us and asked Marc "So, how did your date with the ex- go last night?" It took me all of four seconds to deduce that Marc had been to Buffalo Wild Wings on Sunday night with that THING that masquerades as a female.
I looked at Marc with defeated, somber eyes. He knew what I was thinking, and he tried to defend himself.
"I can't help it if I'm a nice guy. I'm not going to cut her out of my life just because we're broken up. Hey, I'm a nice guy!"
Really? Last I checked, nice guys don't lie to their good friends.
This really pissed me off.
Posted by Ryan at August 12, 2003 10:50 AM
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