Choose Your Own Nuthouse
You pick up your cell phone after having tossed it on the passenger seat. Why it finally got a signal in the midst of this godforsaken wilderness that kept for longer than five seconds just in time for Harlan’s call is something you don’t want to dwell to long upon. You dial the first name that pops up in the memory, that being the name of your good friend Gary. Gary is a good, dependable guy, who can always be counted upon to give sound, rational advice.
“Hey, what’s up?” asks Gary when he answers.
“Um, hey, yeah… just wanted to let you know that I just heard Harlan’s on his way, and I thought you guys would like to kn-“ You get no further than that before Gary begins shrieking uncontrollably into the phone. You flinch at the volume and completely unmanly quality of Gary’s screams and pull the phone a little bit from your ear.
“Gary?” More shrieking.
“GARY?” Still more shrieking and it’s starting to turn to sobbing.
“GARY?!?! Get a fucking hold on yourself!” Gary stops shrieking and instead opts for a quiet sobbing. You can deal with this, since you can now speak without having to yell into the phone. You’ll keep the urge to bitch-slap the shit out of Gary to yourself until you can see him in person. “What should we do about this?”
“I don’t know,” Gary replies. “Cancel the weekend and wall ourselves up in a monastery for the rest of our natural lives?” So much for Gary’s sound, rational advice. While you ponder what to do, Gary’s sobs begin to get on your nerves.