So you’ve got this buddy, Bob. You aren’t as close as you used to be, but you grew up together and have a bunch of friends in common. And even though you’re both busy with your lives, you get together every couple years to catch up.
This year, you and Bob decide to meet at a bar. You each have a couple of beers and the game is on and even though there’s this obnoxious guy there, going from table to table all loud, making a spectacle of himself, you and Bob have a great time.
A couple hours goes by and it’s time to head home and you and Bob realize that you probably shouldn’t drive. So you call a cab.
That’s when the obnoxious guy comes over. You two have only had a couple of pops, but this guy is loaded. You can smell it on him. He’s shouting and making weird faces and pretending to hump a chair. You roll your eyes and check your watch. But then you notice that Bob is kind of laughing at his shtick.
The cab pulls up and suddenly the guy says to Bob, “Hey, give me your keys. I’ll drive you home.”
And Bob is like, “I don’t know…”
You say, “C’mon, man. We gotta go.”
Then the guy says to Bob, “Let me drive and I’ll turn your car into a freakin’ Maybach.”
You say, “This guy is drunk. Let’s go.”
And Bob is like, “I don’t know…”
The guy shouts at Bob, “Give me the keys and you’ll win a million dollars.”
And Bob is like, “Okay!”
You try to reason with Bob. You tell him that he can’t get in the car with this guy. That the guy is toasted. That he’s going to wreck Bob’s car. Maybe get him killed, too.
And Bob is like, “You’re not the boss of me.”
Bob gets in the passenger seat and the drunk guy stumbles around to the driver’s side and he’s half muttering to himself and half yelling and you can tell this is a bad scene. So you go over to Bob’s window and try to talk him out of it, before it’s too late.
You tell him he should take his keys back, even if he has to start a fight. But then the guy starts driving and you’re running alongside the car pleading with him: “Just get out now. You don’t want to do this. You’re gonna get hurt.”
But the guy puts the pedal down and speeds off and you’re left behind, shouting after Bob, begging him to bail out.
And then, after a hundred yards, the guy wraps Bob’s car around a tree.
* * *
You sprint the distance between you and the flaming wreck. You’re pissed, but you’re also worried about Bob. He was stupid, and it was a terrible idea to get in the car with that d-bag. But you love Bob. You’ve been buds for as long as you can remember.
When you get there, you’re shocked to see the drunk guy walking away without a scratch on him. He’s laughing and talking to himself and doesn’t seem to care at all that Bob is still pinned inside the burning car.
You go over to Bob’s door and you’re trying to pull it open to get him out and Bob starts shouting at you.
“YOU SEE!” he says. “WE DIDN’T CRASH!”
And you’re like, “Yes, you did. You’re inside the wreck. Your car is totaled. It’s on fire.”
Then Bob shouts, “IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT! THIS WOULDN’T HAVE HAPPENED IF YOU’D GOTTEN IN THE CAR WITH US!”
And you’re like, “Dude, that makes no sense.”
Then Bob shouts, “I ALWAYS HATED THAT CAR AND I’M GLAD MY NEW BEST FRIEND WRECKED IT!”
And you’re like, “Dude, what are you talking about.”
Then Bob shouts, “I HATE YOU.”
And that’s kind of what it’s like.
