The Friend Card

Hell yeah.

Glad you’re here.

Okay, my friend Eva doesn’t want me to tell this story given the details it contains. But I’m going to regardless because I was in attendance when the incident took place and I think that gives me the entitlement to share my experience, from an eyewitness account, at least.

You’ll meet Eva shortly, but to tell a story properly you must give the setup of what and how, and the backstory leading to such a circumstance that one finds themselves in.

It all started with the thing that we’ve all experienced at least once in our lives.

It usually comes from a person very close within your inner circle. With little regard towards your feelings, it forces you into submission to it when it’s presented.

It’s the title chosen for this story.

The Friend Card.

I was in my apartment, having finished a footlong sub sandwich, laying on a black leather couch that cost so much more than it was worth. Scrolling through apps trying to find anything that sparked my interest to watch while I slipped into a food coma. When my phone signals a received text with a *chirp*.

With my phone in hand, tapping the screen, I see it’s from Eva. See, I told you she’d come into the story sooner rather than later. Looking at the message I already felt funny. A gut feeling, if you will, or maybe it was the sandwich. Who knows?

Eva: Chubs, I need a favor.

Now, a multitude of thoughts and emotions possibly came to mind seeing the name “Chubs”.

Before we go any further.

Yes, I am cool with it. I’ve had the name ever since we’ve known each other. It’s fine. I call her “Rat” on occasion, short for Gym Rat, because she’s constantly in the gym doing something, it’s kind of self-explanatory.

I also workout, but my workout consists of expanding my stomach and body with food and delicious beverages. Between the both of us I could make the argument that my exercising is more enjoyable by a landslide victory. That’s a conversation for a different day.

Anyway, back to the texts.

Eva: Chubs, I need a favor

Me: Why do I have a bad feeling just by reading this?

Eva: I need a plus one for a wedding.

Me: Fuck no

Eva: I’m pulling the friend card. Make sure your tux is ready

Me: Oh hell nah

Eva: Friend Card

Me: also I just stuffed my face, I’m in no condition to attend a wedding.

Eva: you’ll get free food and drinks.

Eva: Friend card

Eva: You’re coming

Me: It better have good food

Eva: <3 be here around 4

Me: Fine!

After this little exchange I had to go to my parent’s house since I didn’t know how to work an iron. The rest of the day went about exactly how one does when one visits their parents to help with a simple task.

Mom ironed my burgundy button up shirt and black suit jacket and pants, While Dad did what a lot of Dad’s do nowadays, he sat and watched the news. I decided to hang around with the folks for the rest of the day until it was dark outside, heading home to drink beers before sleep finally took ahold of me.

Waking up the next morning I immediately felt dread. I knew what the day had in store. You know what I’m talking about. Where you’re basically going to a party, and you don’t know anybody except the one person dragging you to it. The feeling is akin to when you start at a new school and must make new friends. That type of dread.

Fast forward, because the details leading up to the wedding aren’t important. Being lazy around one’s home isn’t exciting to read about. So, around three-thirty, tux on and one final glance in the mirror, I head out, getting behind the wheel of my 2023 black jeep, whom Eva kindly named “B.J.”.

With the window down, the sunshine on my face, the bass bumping, sunglasses on, the cool wind flowing through my hair, I drive in the momentary peace for a couple of songs before parking outside of Eva’s complex.

Knocking on her door after climbing two flights of stairs, with sweat beginning to form, the green door swings open. Eva steps out in a V-neck wrap burgundy jumpsuit, black high heels, gold hoop earrings, black painted nails with her brown hair flowing down her right shoulder and a black small flap shoulder crossbody purse.

“I thought you were going to wear a dress. Also, why did I just come all the way up here? I could’ve waited in B.J.” I speak.

“You needed the exercise, and I’m not in the wedding so, I’m not wearing a dress if I don’t have too.” Eva responded as she locked her apartment door before turning around.

“Here, I got you a juice box.” Eva said, handing me a strawberry and banana flavor juice box that I hadn’t realized she held under her arm.

I gladly took it from her. I can never turn down a juice box no matter the circumstance. Birthday parties, business meetings, moving furniture, weddings or funerals. Juice box time is juice box time.

We climb into B.J., set the GPS, and pull onto the road. Within a few minutes I put the air conditioner on full blast.

“Dude, just come to one session. I promise it’s not like you think it is.” Eva utters.

For context, and your enlightenment, Eva is an amateur boxer. She’s had two fights so far and won both. Ever since she started training, she has been persistent for two years to sign me up and my “stubbornness” as she calls it, continuously rejects the offer because it doesn’t sound fun.

“I don’t need to learn how to box. Nobody messes with me to begin with.” I reply.

“it’s not just for that, it’ll help you get in shape and live longer.”

“Dude, no shot.” I replied,

“Okay, Thanks again for coming fat-ass. Love you.” She says patting my shoulder.

“Love you too, Rat.” I conclude.

With that conversation dying down, we listened to music to music the rest of the way with Eva filling me in on the wedding details:

One of her co-workers that she gets along with, who has down syndrome, named Thomas, invited her to his wedding.

“There’s no telling how many people will show up.” She concluded

“Oh, I can’t wait to see this.” I replied.

Say what you want, but people with special needs know how to have fun at parties and I challenge you to disagree and try to make a compelling argument.

After a good forty-five-minute drive, we finally arrived at the destination where two buildings sit. To say this place was luxurious would be a perfect way to describe it and yet also not do it justice at the same time.

Looking at the landscaping you can tell it gets mowed every day just in case one blade of grass was missed the previous day. The gravel was that nice clean gravel even though tires are running over it.

The Chapel. 

The chapel looked like something a prince or princess would get married in. Neatly trimmed bushes lined the edge of a white brick isle-way leading to it.

Three trees stand in front. A regular and apple tree on the right side of the isle and one single palm tree opposite on the left. Looking through one of the six windows from the outside in the chapel seemed in pitch black opposing its pure white structure.

“One rule. Don’t leave me alone here” I utter to Eva.

“I don’t know ninety percent of these people. So, you don’t leave me either.” She replied.

After parking Eva led the way to a group of people standing around a gentleman with a buzzed haircut, glasses, in a tux and bowtie whom I’m assuming is the groom.

“Eva! Excuse me, I have to go say hi to my friend.” I heard Thomas saying to an older couple that I later found out to be his parents and another guy standing with them that was sporting a salt and pepper combover haircut with a thick mustache across his wrinkled face.

“Thomas! You look so handsome.” Eva response as they embrace in a bear hug.

“Thanks. You look pretty Eva.” Thomas says with a smile before turning to me.

“Is this your boyfriend?” Thomas asks, pointing at me.

“If he’s good today, we’ll see” Eva answers, getting a smile out of Thomas

I began to wonder from that response if she had started drinking already. I have yet to get a straight answer when I question her on this exchange.

“Huh?” I audibly say out loud.

“Don’t worry about it. Thomas, this is Scott. Scott, this is Thomas” Eva introduces us.

“You can call me Chubs.” I say as we shake hands.

“Nice to meet you. Any friend of Eva’s, is a friend of mine.” Thomas utters.

“Same, I guess that makes us buddies now.”

“Yup, you’re my new friend.” Thomas states.

“Make sure he gets all the food and drinks he wants.” he tells Eva. I love this guy already. He is definitely a homie, for sure, without a doubt.

“Hell yeah. Dude, you can come hang out with us anytime when your get back from your honeymoon.” I extend the invite.

“Thomas! We need to get ready!” We hear from his mother, interrupting our conversation.

We hug Thomas, wishing him luck before he walks off in the direction of his parents.

“That was very nice of you.” Eva says.

“I don’t see why not. Also, what was that boyfriend part of the conversation about?”

“I said don’t worry about it.”

Again, I have yet to get a straight answer to this day, and this happened months ago.

The interior of the chapel was completely white with beige edging and trim. Five golden chandeliers hang from the ceiling. White and gold trim pews with flowers at the end of each all the way down the middle isle walkway leading to the altar where a big wooden cross stands firmly planted.

If you close your eyes and picture what a white wedding chapel in Heaven might look like, you’re probably not far off from the look of this place. It gives off very “Holy Place” vibes.

So, I led you through all of that to get to this point.

For the most part, unless you’re the bride or groom, parents or in the wedding, like the Best Man, and even then, a lot of times the Best Man just wants to get past the speech portion of the ceremony. But much like him, I think we can all agree that every wedding guest that has ever attended a wedding wants to skip ahead to the wedding reception.

So, after vows and kisses, we travel to the next building over to where the reception is held.

It’s essentially a carpeted room the size of auditorium with tables in their designated places, a section of wooded flooring that’s for dancing at the front closest to where the bride and groom seated and a built side room as the bar.

How you’d imagine a reception would be presented.

As expected, I fully take Thomas up on his offer.

Eating about all I could and washing it down with a multiple adult beverage.

Eva can only laugh and shake her head at my performance.

Sometimes I enjoy displaying how much I take pride in being professionally out of shape.

So, there’s an unwritten rule about weddings. Some people know it, others have never heard of it. After the speeches, the dances, the cake, the celebratory drinks, and shared stories among family and friends.

Once the bride and groom ride off into the distance towards their honeymoon, it’s officially The Afterparty.

That means all bets are off. Long forgotten are the prime and properness that people display amongst others. Now, guests can let their hair down, cuss like sailors, drink like the drunks they are and go absolutely wild with little to no thought of the consequences of tomorrow.

Why? You might ask. Because tomorrow is for tomorrow.

As the evening led into the night, drinks began flowing like an endless stream of a river.

I’ve knocked my fair share of drinks back. But, due to my size, I’m only at a light buzz.

Whereas others in attendance that decided to stick around have entered the slurring speech stage of their alcohol intake. Some are even at the falling over portion.

After a couple of hours Eva and I decided to get some fresh air. A few minutes outside, we stand gazing up at the stars.

Eva still milking her second beer, meanwhile I may be one number eight and looking to grab number nine soon.

“You know tonight wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be” I say to Eva.

“Yeah, it wasn’t. Thomas really got into that kiss.” Eva response, sipping her beer.

“That’s nothing. What do you think he’s getting into now.” I reply eyebrows raised.

“Oh God.” Eva puts a hand over her face.

“He’s probably annihilating her right now.”

“Stop talking, the images are popping in my head.” Eva muffles in her hand.

“I’m only saying there’s a lot of pent-up energy being unleashed and his wife is on the receiving end of it.” I say before finishing off my beer.

“Why are you the way you are?” Eva asks.

“I’m just making conversation.”

“You know what you’re doing. I’m got to drink these images away now.” Eva says, taking a gulp from her cup.

“Good, stay here. I’ll go get more beers and I’ll drink them away with you.”   

“You caused it. Fat-ass.”

“No idea what you’re talking about. I’ll be back.” I conclude before entering back into the reception area. 

On my way to the bar, I spot in the corner three women talking to another woman holding a cigarette and a staff member hosting the reception. I knew I smelled smoke coming from somewhere at different times of the evening.

I get our beers, and I turn to walk back outside and notice the women are no longer anywhere in sight.

I’m walking back to the front door I left Eva outside of and the closer I get the more commotion I begin to hear.

I pick up the pace, hurrying myself outside and what I find stops me in my tracks.

Double fisting beers, a wave of shock and awe washes over me as I see on the front lawn under the palm tree, the three women standing around shouting to prevent what was taking place.

“Stop! Stop!” they shouted.

On the ground in front of them I see Eva mounted onto of another woman grabbing her hair as Eva presses her forehead down into the woman and dropping clutched fist into the woman’s body and face.

I quicken my pace closer to the skirmish. But not too quickly. Eva is hands down winning this scuffle and if she’s fighting in some of her best clothes then, its clearly this woman did something to deserve a beating.

One woman rushes past me, I guess in her state of frenzy she didn’t notice me approaching, which is hard to believe.

As I’m approaching, I pick up her bag laying in the grass. Proceeding forward, drinking as I go. Letting her take out her aggression as a good friend would do.

The woman had given up by the time I reached them as Eva lands hard strikes to her face drawing blood from her nose and mouth. Once you see blood involved it’s time to go. I chug the rest of my beer and grabbed ahold of Eva.

“Fuck you, bitch!” Eva shouts as I pull her away leading her towards our car.

“Easy tiger, I think you got her” I say unable to control a giggle from escaping me.

Sometimes it’s funny seeing your friend still mad even though they just mauled someone, and they must get that one last word in before leaving the scene.

Eva calms as I’m still ushering Eva. Still with purse and a beer cup in hand, we reach B.J.

I hand my keys to Eva simply because I’m in no condition to drive. Better to have an enraged female driving than driving while you’re still drinking and believe me, I was going to finish that drink.

“Dude, I am blown away.” I say as soon as we shut the jeep doors.

“Bitch jumped on me out of nowhere for no reason.” Eva response before taking a deep breath. She starts B.J. backs out and pulls away.

“I was in awe watching what happen. Like, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.” I say, taking a sip.

“What do you mean.”

“I didn’t know you learned how to ground and pound.”

“Yeah, you don’t just learn how to punch dude. It’s a whole thing they do.” Eva says sounding confused.

“I thought you were punching a bag and doing cardio all day.” I respond. My mind opens to all this new information, or it’s alcohol.

“What? No.”

“I was unaware of all this.”

“So, does that mean you’ll come train? Or at least try it?” Eva asks, looking back and forth between myself and the road.

“I just might after seeing that.” responding before taking a big gulp as we drive into the night.

As I sit here recalling these events, I guess I’m in it and there’s no turning back at this point.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go to my first training session, and Eva is waiting.

This is going to suck so bad; I can already feel it in my bones.

Pray for me.