One of the Many Wonderful Things About Knowing Whitney Even Longer Than I've Known My Wife
I recently pointed out that one of the wonderful things about being married is the verbal shorthand you have for memories -- a short and simple phrase can evoke an entire scene -- but I should also point out that I have known my friend Whitney even longer than I have been married to my wife, and Whitney's memory is nearly as prodigious an an elephant's . . . but, unlike the relatively unbiased elephant, Whitney seems to remember the things you'd most like to forget . . . so he recently reminded me of another "bringing stuff back to the table episode". . . my wife was in India with some of her lady-friends, and I met up with John, Whitney, and Mose in Amsterdam; we were catching up in a cozy tavern, sitting at a little wood table in the corner, and it was my turn to buy a round; I walked up to the bar, purchased four pints of beer, turned and saw my friends deep in conversation, and decided I didn't need any help carrying the four pints -- so I nestled them into a square, put my hands on each side of the square, applied a bit of pressure, and lifted . . . and (miraculously!) the square of four pint glasses, held together firmly, and so I proceeded across the barroom floor in this manner, happy with my independence and my aptitude, until I got several feet from the table; at this point, John, Mose, and Whitney simultaneously looked at me, and their combined facial expressions conveyed so much anxiety and disbelief, such a unified and abject lack of faith in my endeavor, that I doubted myself and slightly adjusted the pressure I was placing on the four pint glasses -- despite the fact that I had applied the perfect amount of pressure for ninety percent of the walk -- and with this slight increase in pressure, the pint glasses shattered (and so did my ego, but not my ability to create zeugma) and then I had to endure much humiliation and ridicule, despite the fact that it was their facial expressions that caused the entire mess, and then, just when I had forgotten the entire incident, I had to relive it not once, but twice: when Whitney brought it up in the comments, and when I took the time to describe it here.
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8 comments:
as usual, Dave's ego prevails. His assumption is that Whitney's recollection is about him when in fact, it is about Whitney's lament for every drop of alcohol rendered undrinkable - ever
that is the prevailing theme of this blog in a nutshell: "as usual, dave's ego prevails."
That trip had more memorable stories per capita than any other I can recall, except perhaps Daytona. Mose and me winding up on some ex-pats' houseboat at 4am as one of the blokes pulled out his revolver... now that was something to lament.
And I have to say, the title of this blogpost is the nicest thing Dave's ever said to me in the 24 years I have known him. Which is kind of sad, but I'll take it.
you'd have us believe you've the strength to shatter four pint glasses at once, would you?
if there weren't very very credible witnesses to this, i would wonder if it was all a dream.
I remember them shattering when they hit the ground. I think he just dropped them. But I was looking at Dave, not the glasses -- the concentration on his face, replaced by horror at his own terrible decision once he saw our astounded faces, was something to behold.
i was so close to making it!
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