RoseElephant copy.jpg
  • dearabi

1 + 1 + 1 = 1

I’ve spent the past three hours of my life trying to figure out who I could watch the Jon B. concert at Yoshi’s with next month. Scrolling through the hundreds of names on my contact list, I realized that it shouldn’t be this hard.

I took into consideration the day of the show (maybe everyone’s just busy). The artist performing (not everyone is as ancient as me and knows who he is). Maybe I suck to be around now (FUCK YOU I’M AMAZING). But then I found myself in the same predicament when I tried to get tickets for the Sharks vs. Ducks game. The Warriors game. The Wizard of Oz. A spa date. Brunch on Sunday. A simple “Hey, how you doing?” phone call.

Truth be told, out of the hundreds of numbers in my phone, I actually use less than 20. And out of those 20, I have an even smaller handful that I consider my usual suspects. My partners in crime. My go-tos. My girls. We used to have GNO’s at least twice a month, last minute happy hours, and impromptu brunches. Now, these dates have been reduced to weddings, birthdays, special occasions, and “Girls-Few Hours Before I Meet With My Man-Out’s”. With very good reason. All of them are in functional, healthy, loving relationships. And I may very well be their #1 fans. I would rather be on the sidelines alone, than be at every GNO listening to them crying over an asshole any day.

In no way do I want my friends to read this and feel guilty for being happy. Because I’m happy. I just want to know what happens to the plus-ones after all your plus-one have found the “one”? I wonder if there’s a for friendships.

0 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

I recently watched the movie Clean starring the ever so handsome Adrian Brody. In it, he has a conversation with his barber about how he's unsuccessfully struggling to rid himself of certain feelings