"Sack of Shit"

I'd like to take a few minutes to talk to you about a friend of mine. I don't want to use his real name, so I'll refer to him by a nickname which was given to him by my "good friend" Steve: Sack of Shit.

Now for the better part of the last 5 years, Sack of Shit has been calling me at least 5 times a week during the offseason and up to about 20 times a week when baseball season is in full swing. Yes, this is a lot of time for two heterosexual grown men to spend on the phone with each other, but what can you do?

The timing of these phone calls almost creates a timeline of cell phone billing procedures. At first, his calls could be expected right about 9:02pm. The reason of course was that his free nights and weekends plan would kick in at 9:00, and the extra couple of minutes was just to account for a margin of error. About a year later, those calls moved up to 8:02pm and then less than a year later, 7:02pm. At that point two calls nightly during the season were expected. There was the 7PM pre-game discussion and then the 10:00PM east coast wrap up chat that preceded Sack of Shit's self imposed 10:30PM bedtime. In between which I could expect a call anytime a player on his fantasy team did something good, or anytime a player on my team did anything bad. About a year later, Sack of Shit briefly switched over to T-Mobile and got a plan which, much to my chagrin made all of his calls to me free. This was not a good time to be me. Shortly thereafter, he switched back over to something else, and restarted the old 7pm schedule. Now, however, with the offseason slowly moving along, that 7pm call is temporarily extinct. It has, unfortunately been replaced by the 3:50pm call. The reason for which, is that as a teacher (please help the youth of America) this is when he is in the car heading home. Should I not be able to answer, or simply choose not to, this call is immediately followed by the 3:51pm recall. I would venture to say, though I'm no mathematician, that roughly 5% of my time awake is spent either on the phone with Sack of Shit, or ignoring his calls.

What is most amazing about all of this, is that during this 5 year evolution in annoyance and due to easily the single greatest miracle that the internet will ever perform, Sack of Shit got married. How this happened is one of the greatest mysteries of my life. Greater than the pyramids of egypt, women's reluctance toward anal sex and people's boundless interest in religion (I mean come on people, if Priests - people who are supposedly closest to "god"- are not afraid of any eternal ramifications of their earthbound actions, then why on earth would anybody else?) Sack of shit's engagement and subsequent nuptuals are simply astounding.

When I found out he was engaged, and I did so via an email, as did his parents, I knew two things for damn sure:
1. She was Asian
2. She was going to hate me
The reasons for my second conclusion were threefold. First, with the exception of one lovely Asian girl from my high school, with whom I have remained friends (though she continually ditches me week in week out as my movie-buddy) every asian girl I've met has taken an immediate disliking to me. Secondly, I knew if Sack of Shit kept up his dialing schedule with me, she would inevitably grow jealous and angry (which surpisingly hasn't happened with my wife, most likely do the fact that she doesn't like talking to me). And lastly, the majority of people when I first meet them strongly dislike me. (One prime example would be the friend of Jon's who was staying the night in my apartment. He thanked me for letting him stay and I joked that I had not invited him in the first place. He didn't get that it was a joke for almost 2 years.)

After news of a wedding date broke, I waited idly by to be told of my inclusion in his wedding party and to prepare a speech of some kind. Days went by, and then weeks. Eventually I got a call from my "good friend" steve, saying that he was a groomsman, and why wasn't I?

I didn't know what to say. I was shocked both at my exclusion and the fact that Sack of Shit had other friends. Surely if he called them as much as he calls me, there couldn't be any time left over for his wife, or even going outside. Despite my best efforts, I couldn't help but feel rejected. It's embarassing to say, but I was actually looking forward to being in the wedding. Alas, it was not to be. My wife, equally as shocked and appalled as I was called Sack of Shit on the phone to discuss my exclusion. She was told that his bride, who is from Taiwan - where most of her family still lives - was not having enough people on her side to allow for my involvement (We can question the intention of this later). My wife asked how he could not choose me when we spend so much time on the phone. What Sack of Shit said to that still haunts me to this day. I hear these words in my head on an almost daily basis, as they seem to sum up my life. Remember, roughly 5% of my time awake is spent talking to this person. Sack of Shit said: "That time doesn't count, because we never talk about anything important." A dagger into my heart. Not just any dagger either, a jagged dagger dipped in lemon juice, buried in salt then twisted into my chest.

I hadn't been this insulted since my mom told she "probably shouldn't have had kids," to which I said "I hope you like your Christmas present." Shockingly, the next day, at exactly 7:02pm, Sack of Shit called me. Did he think my wife wouldn't relay the message? Did he expect me to pick up the call? Why would I? It wasn't anything important. I kept this up for a few weeks, but just like constantly having sex without a condom, you're going to catch a disease. My disease was a Sack of Shit.

To add insult to injury, we were also not invited to the rehearsal dinner. Sack of Shit said that, as is customary, it was only for close family and out of town guests. We were coming from New York City and the wedding was in northwest Pennsylvania. Apparently, not far enough away.
The wedding day finally arrived and the cermony came and went. At the reception, the best man stood to make his toast and (despite Sack of Shit telling him that he was the best man - no kidding - on the car ride to the church) said the following: "I've known Sack of Shit a long time. We grew up together. Let's all wish them both the best of luck. To the Bride and Groom."

My speech would have been 43 minutes long if I rushed it. I would have detailed some if not all of the strange and downright unexplainable behavoirs that Sack of Shit has demonstrated during our time as "friends." Some of the most notable:

• While in college, Sack of Shit would drive his gray 1987 Astro Van (which I'm convinced was used in Silence of the Lambs) off campus to pick up high school girls that his obese roommate had met online and made arrangements to fuck. He would then wait outside the room for said fucking to subside, and of course drive the girl back home. Alone. What I would not give to now what they talked about during those rides back to suburbs of Rochester, or for that matter if the girls would even stop crying. (said roommate also agreed to a deal in which he would receive $50 for performing cunninlingus on an extraordinarily unattractive and unfortunately hairy woman he met at a bar, IF AND ONLY IF Sack of Shit would stay in the room to verify that it was taking place.)
• Sack of Shit once received a padded envelope in the mail from someone he described to me as "a guy in Cleveland I met online and trade stuff with," which was filled with CD's. One of said CD's, and for the record the only one I ever looked at, contained a film titled "Snow White and the Seven Black Cocks," which concluded with a scene that still makes me nauseus today. Upon completion of what appeared to be a highly uncomfortable group activity, the seven men took turns ejaculating into a single champagne glass, which Snow White then took into her hands and did who knows what, because I was long the fuck gone by that point.
• With the second overall selection of our 2002 Fantasy Baseball Draft, Sack of Shit selected Mike Piazza. Citing position scarcity as the most vital early round drafting technique, Sack of Shit finished some 64 points off the lead.
• Sack of Shit has a rather unique ability to take something you've said or asked and begin responding to it as though his response will be related to your statement or question, despite the fact that what he is about to say will have almost no relevance at all to what was first said. Example: "Hey, Sack of Shit, did you find and download Tommyboy yet?" His reply: "No, but I did find Stroke Your Cock, Watch Me Fuck." Another example: "Hey Sack of Shit, what kind of cereal is that?" His reply: "You want to watch Stroke Your Cock, Watch Me Fuck?"
• He and his younger sister look exactly alike and despite or because of this, I am intensely attracted to his younger sister.
• If you take your thumb and middle finger from the same hand and touch their tips together, the circle created is roughly the size of his wrists and ankles.
• At 2:45am the night of halloween, and dressed as a woman, Sack of Shit ordered the batter dipped deep fried haddock which was on special at the crappiest all night diner you have ever seen in your life.
• His alcoholic drink of choice is a vodka with cranberry juice.
• Before going to my "good friend" Steve's wedding, Sack of Shit tried to get me to drive over 3 hours out of my way to pick him up so he could save $11 on air-fare.
• Tried to convince me that Baltimore was in between New York City and northwestern Pennsylvania so that I would pick up a girl flying in there for his wedding in hopes that she would then have relations with our friend Jon.
• He takes his wife to Long John Silver's every Thursday night for all-you-can-eat fish sticks.
• He recently began a sentence to me with: "I got into the biggest fight with an idiot today" only to then conclude the sentence with: "on the cbssportsline baseball message board."
• He took swing dance as an elective class in college and practiced by tying a short white string to his door knob and "shim shamming" with it. Later that year, at a dance, when swing music came on, he refused to dance with a lovely female friend of ours, saying "she wouldn't know the moves."
• He lives in Miami, Florida and does not go to the beach.
• He once got an $8 haircut, paid with a $10 bill and asked for change.
• While he was in the car with his wife, I told him over the phone that we were looking for a new printer. After they mocked us for a few seconds, he then told me the make and model number of one that was on sale (on-line only) for the next 2 days.
• While on vacation in Arizona, he called me from a rental car and asked to go online and find the nearest bar to him that offered an on-screen trivia game that he likes to play at home.
• To my rehearsal dinner (as an out of town guest, he was invited) he wore khaki pants, a long sleeve t-shirt and an adidas Rochester Tennis Team warm up jacket.
• He exercises religiously, at least 5 times a week and right now uses the exact same weights for a dumb-bell bench press as he did as a senior in college 6 years ago.
• While in college, we would always know when he was masturbating because he always played the same song. (Adam's Song - Blink 182)

I think it would have been the greatest wedding speech of all time, however, having reviewed this, he probably made the right choice by not giving me a chance to speak.

And in case you're wondering, his wife doesn't like me.