This e-mail comes from my friend Andrew. Andrew and I met back in 1993. We lived together for a semester in college, rowed together competitively, vandalized things, went on road trips, dressed up in tuxes for each other's weddings, laughed our asses off at all kinds of inappropriate shit and numerous other things that certify us as friends.
Here is the e-mail I get today from Andrew:
From: AP
To: WJR
Date: Apr 3, 2006 2:22 PM
Subject: You're an asshole......
I'm having problems with my knee again. I swear, if I need surgery, I'm coming to NY to beat you with my crutches.
AP
I vaguely remember this knee injury but can't for the life of me remember what the incident was. I was fairly certain booze was involved (ya think?), and remember feeling bad, but other than that all was blank. I have to e-mail him back:
From: WJR
To: AP
Date: Apr 3, 2006 3:20 PM
Subject: Re: You're an asshole......
What were the circumstances around this injury again? I can't for the life of me remember how I damaged you.
The answer arrives:
From: AP
To: WJR
Date: Apr 3, 2006 3:47 PM
Subject: Re: You're an asshole......
WE: Chris N.'s bachelor party on a bus.
YOU: Drunk standing in the aisle
ME: Drunk sitting in a chair with my right knee in the aisle.
YOU: Somehow fall on my outer right knee forcing it to the ground.
ME: Damaged MCL.
ME: Something else is going on in there. My knee clicks and snaps whenever I straighten my leg. Problems walking up and down stairs. Hurts to the touch. Never had a problem until this happened.
If it wasn't so painful, I'd laugh. I'm seeing a knee specialist in two weeks.
Thanks for nothing, asshole.
AP
See how I work? We'll be out drinking, smoking cigars, and having a grand ol' time one second and the next I'll be destroying your medial collateral ligament. And this was a good friend of mine. Imagine if you were fresh on the friendship scene! It'd be uglier for sure.
Heed my warning!
5 comments:
this explains why you punched me in the nuts last month.
I'm glad you find this funny. I have to take a fucking elevator to my office -- on the second floor -- because I walk up the stairs like I have a wooden block underneath my short leg.
I might not be married to a fancy pants big city lawyer, but I think this blog entry is Exhibit A in my lawsuit. AMP v WJR.
AP
Before I became friends with Bill, I was 5'9", at least. Let's just say that now I'm lucky if i can find a roller coaster without a height requirement.
Chicken fucker.
-Meg
AP,
First, I don't think the situation is funny. Second, if you want to battle this out in court, you can bring it on.
-WR
I knew Bill was somehow behind that whole hernia thing ...
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