I haven’t heard from my friend Delium in a couple of weeks (other than when he sent me a link to jean-pajamas as a misguided attempt at defending his “leisure pants” days). He hasn’t come over or called me for two weeks. To be fair, I haven’t called him either. But (of course!) I have an excuse. My excuse is that, although Delium was my friend first, since we were baby teenagers, and we even dated in our early college years, slowly over time, Nordic Boy has stolen him away from me. That’s right, I said it. Friendship theft! Right in my own home!
And before I go on, I don’t think I have ever stated that my friend Delium is not really named Delium. Because, obviously that is not a name. The reason I call him Delium is that his real name is something like Richard Daly. That’s not his actual name, and no I am not friends with the former mayor of Chicago (who I think is dead, right?) but it’s something like that. And there was a period of time a few years ago where he got on some sort of junk mail mailing list with the most effed up misspelling of his name ever. The result was that for a few months, all of his junk mail was addressed to “Delium Ulrichter.” How awesome is that? Instead of spurning this incident, I have embraced it and now call him Delium.
Anyway, back to the Friendship Theft. At first, Delium was most definitely my friend and just acquaintances with Nordic Boy. But as the years went by, I noticed a shift occuring. Not a subtle shift, either. Delium was totally falling in love with Nordic Boy, the more he got to know him. I, all of a sudden, was the side dish.
And can I just tell you, with no resentment in my tone whatsoever (ok maybe a little bit), that THIS ALWAYS HAPPENS TO ME? Nordic Boy is much less social than I am, and has fewer friends overall than I do, but dang. When someone puts in the time to get to know that guy? That is when I become liver of the chopped variety. People who take the time to get to know him, love him. No, let me rephrase. They looooooove him. Love, love, love. They become friends with him, and they also become fans of him. And Delium is no different. To this I say, yeah yeah, I know, Nordic Boy is awesome. WHATEVER. And also, humph.
The reason that I hadn’t called Delium is because that dude doesn’t call me no more. He only calls Nordic Boy. So now I have to hear news about my friend through him! The nerve. So I just wait for Nordic Boy to fill me in on what’s new with Delium, or to make social plans for us with Delium. Hence, I don’t call him as much anymore. Chopped liver does not know how to dial a phone, you know.
So Delium calls me yesterday to catch up and figure out when we can make a plan to hang out. We decide to meet up for dinner on Sunday. The question is: what time? See, Delium has a bit of an issue with time management. He is super busy, with back-to-back engagements, and no matter what time we say we will meet, he usually is late, or early, but not anywhere near the time that we agreed to. This is because he has a serious issue with interpreting what time really means. For example, if I say let’s get together at 7pm to go get some ice cream, he hears that and might think “She doesn’t want me to pick her up at 7pm, she wants me to leave my house at 7pm.” Or perhaps “We’ll probably have to wait in line for ice cream, so we better go early. I’ll show up at 6:30.” Meeting up at 7pm is not as simple as just saying we will meet up at 7pm. This is not news to him, by the way. I am not talking shit about my friend behind his back. He will be the first to tell you that he has a problem with understanding time. Hence, the following weird conversation that we had.
Him: What should we have?
Me: How about we go get a burrito?
Him: Ok. What time?
Him: And I am talking about Food In Mouth Time.
Him: Food In Mouth Time. What time do you want the food to actually be in your mouth?
Me: That sounds weird. Food in Mouth Time? Really?
Him: Well, that way I know what to extrapolate. If I know what time you want to actually be eating, then I’ll know what time to pick you up. Like, if you want to eat at 8, then I will come pick you up at 7:30.
Me: Can’t we just say that we’re meeting at 7:30? Or that you’re picking me up at 7:30? Isn’t that the same thing?
Him: Not to me. I need Food In Mouth Time.
Me: I just don’t know if I can go with you on this Food In Mouth thing.
Him: Do you want me to be on time, or don’t you?
Me: Fine. Food In Mouth: 7:30.
Him: Thank you.
Me: You’re really weird.
Him: You wait, Food In Mouth Time will sweep the nation.
Him: Wait, Nordic Boy is coming too, right?