Meteor

* * *

There are three pillars of male “adulthood” that society deems necessary in order to qualify as “mature,” or “stable.” They are: buying a house, getting married, and having a baby. I’ve done none of these (nor do I plan on doing any), but I’m constantly told that I “should.” So, I’ve decided to recount a recent conversation that explains my positions on each subject.

Let’s begin.

“You should buy a house.”

“I can’t afford one.”

“Of course you can! Mortgage rates are at an all-time low.”

“So is my bank account.”

“Okay, so you dip into your savings a bit.”

“Savings? I barely have checking. I just listed my couch as a dependent.”

“You’re just throwing your money away on rent. Don’t you want to own something?”

“Why? So I can finally paint that accent wall I’ve always dreamed of?”

“What about getting a bigger place? Maybe with a yard?”

“And be on ground level? No way. I need at least two floors of other apartments underneath me. That way any murderers have to kill like a dozen people before they get up to me. It’s also practical in case of floods, or stampedes.”

“Where do you live? Jumanji? I’m worried about you being alone, man…

…you should get married.”

“I’m not getting married.”

“Ever? You’re just going to be…this?”

“This? I’m fine.”

“You texted me last night asking if ice cubes expire.”

“Do they?”

“That’s not the issue. Just make more ice. When are you going to settle down?”

“Why does living with someone imply settling down? Do you know what I did last weekend? Nothing. I literally watched 12 hours of the Discovery Channel. And I’m talking just on Sunday. It was all about meteors and now I’m terrified to go outside.”

“That’s what I mean, man. That’s really weird.”

“Weird? How much do you actually KNOW about meteors? It’s not a question of if one will hit, it’s a question of when. So yeah, you just go ahead and keep pouring money into that 401K and I’ll be the weird one.”

“You’ve gotta stop talking like this. You’re an adult.”

“I just told you I watched 12 hours of Discovery Channel. I can’t get more settled down than being stationary for half of an entire day. Married people are anything but settled. They’re always doing shit. Like, okay, what are you doing this weekend?”

“Um, we’re running a 5K in the park, then we have brunch with Todd and Maggie and then we’re going to Lowe’s so we can get started on that new addition before we head over to…okay, I get it.”

“Dude, the only thing running in my apartment is my toilet.”

“Oh, I’ve got a reason! If you get married, you can start a family. After all…

…don’t you want to have kids?”

“I don’t get the attraction.”

“About having a child?”

“Yeah, I don’t get why people like them. They scream, they’re expensive, you have to feed them like twice a day.”

“More than that, actually.”

“See?”

“Listen, I’m not going to sugarcoat it, children can be work. But they’re worth it.”

“It seems like a hassle. Like, okay, what if you lose it?”

“It? You mean if I lost my child?”

“Right, say you misplaced it, or it crawled away, or I dunno, it got run over.”

“Okay, we’re not talking about this anymore.”

“No, what I’m saying is, I guess I’d be upset, right?”

“You guess you’d be upset if your child got run over?”

“Right, but I can only speculate. I’ve got nothing to equate that loss to. Is it like losing a dog? If my dog ran away…oh my God, I don’t even want to THINK about it. But I’d put up a poster and if I didn’t find it, I’d probably just get another one. I wouldn’t go to JAIL. Same should be true for kids. Is that why people have more than one?”

“In case they lose one? Yeah, that’s why people have more than one child. And losing one is a little more emotional than losing a dog.”

“I don’t see how. I love my dog.”

“It’s different. It’s a human life that I created.”

“Okay there, ego.”

“Listen, all I’m saying is, your life is pathetic, right? You’re like some sort of freckled vampire who only goes out at night to feed on Subway sandwiches and beer.”

“Go on.”

“So when you have a child, life just starts to makes sense. A baby gives life purpose.”

“I think you’re being a little melodramatic. Everything just doesn’t magically get better after a baby. What about your wife? You said it looks like a grenade went off down there.”

“Jesus! Keep your voice down! There are families walking by.”

“Yeah, that’s my point. Look at them! Look at that freak of a kid over there. It looks like the Montauk Monster.”

“The what?”

“That hairless beast thing that washed up on Long Island a few years back that no one could identify. Remember? Check it out, that mom just put it in a onesie and strapped it into a stroller.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have kids.”

“Probably not. After all, they’d just get hit by the meteor.”

* * *

1 Comment

Filed under animals, dating, family, growing up, Guy stuff, love, madness, Philadelphia, Sean goes insane, Sean is an idiot, Sean's fridge, wedding, women

One response to “Meteor

  1. Pingback: Meteor — The Good Men Project

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