The Hose

Right now I feel like this guy

SHM ISO WM

I’m not much of a wing man. Most people know this about me.. Being a wing man is a thankless job; you hang out and make your friend look good (yawn) and maybe someone gets some ass, most likely it won’t be the wing man. The only guy who ever forced me into the wingman role was a fellow that Evil accurately (if unfortunately) dubbed Bobby Bo. Yes he was named after former Met, surly f*ck, and general maniac Bobby Bonilla. Bobby Bo was a legitimate maniac who once asked me to act on as his wing man while he stalked his ex-girlfriend from across the street of her apartment. I knew he was a crazy but always thought he was good for a few laughs. One such moment was when his job made him take a sabbatical and get into therapy, it provided me with cocktail party jokes for at least a month!

Being his wingman was easy. We’d be at a bar, a chick would come over he’d be this close to picking her up and need to go to the rest room. While she waited I’d step in and do the right thing:

“Get the f*ck out of here now, this kid is a crazy. Last night, he called a bartender a c**t for about 20 minutes. Don’t walk, run.”
So eventually even Bobby got the hint that I was not quite wing man material and left me alone. Yes he could go off at night play out his like Tom Cruise/Maverick fantasies,..but I was going to respond with a passive/aggressive “f*ck you bro! I ain’t no Goose! I ain’t no bland chinless, balding white guy to act as your comedic fodder! No Way”

This is all a rather long, round about way to introduce the idea that this week, I lost MY wingman of 6 to 8 years and honestly I don’t know what to do.

The exchange itself only took a second but everyone there recognized it for what it was. We were all standing on 14th St. and 9th Ave. and as he was about to jump in a cab he stops is like

“I’ll see you around”
There are three people standing there not getting into the cab, but the comment is directed at me. I look over at Evil, whose standing behind me and even his dense ass picked up on the significance of KenTak’s statement. That was it, maybe I was never Maverick but I was still loosing my Goose!

KenTak 3 is the best wingman ever. Unlike Mr. Shoulders who never seems to be having fun and is always a drag Ken managed to keep his opinions to himself, never act bored but never really enjoy himself. Unlike Mr. Shoulders, Ken could handle me saying:

“Hey, that stripper I just got a lap dance from looked really familiar to me and then at the end of the dance I realized she reminded me of my mother.”

Without getting too worked up or asking to leave or calling me sick. It’s a unique gift and it made us brothers.

Evil was never a good option either. One could never trust him because he’s…you know…evil…

As Evil and I walked towards our respective subway stops we didn’t say much. If I were to hazard a guess I would posit that Evil was debating which one of us were traded in for ½ ownership in a little dog and which one of us was put on waivers like Eddie George, broken down and unwanted…

The only thing I could say with certainty is that we both closed this whole line of ugly thinking with same question:

What now?