Sam is a deep thinker. He puts plans into motion; part of what makes comedy work is that there must be a zany plan. However, you should never go straight to zany. No, you need to work your way up the totem pole. You start with a simple plan. Eventually, you have multiple zany plans going at once. Then, hilarity ensues.
One thing I like about this is that we see a different relationship between Sam and Kenny and Christine and Lucy. Sam and Kenny seem like close friends, and they have a history. Lucy and Christine may live together, but there's a lot more tension in that relationship, probably because they live together. Sam seems comfortable with Kenny, and the two acknowledge each others' differences. Lucy seems bitter whenever one of Christine's suggestions backfires. What amuses me about this scene is that if Sam had listened to Kenny, nothing would continue spiraling out of control for him. If he went with his guy and confronted Lucy, nothing would spiral out of control. It is by taking a third option (a zany scheme!) that things continue on a crash course for farce. This feels like a good place to end Sam's morning, and because I have a good feel for what I want Lucy to be doing next (well, that and watching Sam get shot down again isn't funny. It's just sad.)
Fiction below the fold; follow the links to get caught up.
1. Start of Lucy's first chapter
2. Conclusion of the first Lucy chapter
3. Start of Sam's chapter
4. Sam's story continues with an unfortunate evening
5. Our two main characters interact as Sam gets shot down.
6. We're back with Lucy as she reflects on her new boyfriend
7. Lucy has a little crush; isn't it adorable?
8. Lucy never gets any peace.
9. Sam gets a phone call.
10. Sam meets "Rusty."
* * *
Whenever I have a crisis of faith, and I mean, some seriously deep stuff, I turn to Kenny. This isn’t because of his semester of theology or his year attempting to get in tune with the Buddha — meaning start a band with a Buddhist girl he met. It’s because I have no other friends. This makes me sad when I realize that, but I forget about it pretty quickly because Kenny is a solid guy. So what if he’s got the gumption of horse at the glue factory? He’s there when I need him, and I’ll feel awful when it is time to Boxer him.
“Look, you know I wouldn’t call if wasn’t important,” I said. He had been listening for the last five minutes. The joy of the super early buses is you could talk about your co-worker’s sex life and jerk ass boyfriend without the whole world listening.
“No, you wouldn’t call if you thought it wasn’t important. Because this? This isn’t important.”
“You hear how he talks about her!”
“And that’s firmly in the ‘none of our business’ category, man,” Kenny said. I could hear him on the toilet. He’s a classy gentleman. “Look, this is just sour grapes talking because you wanted to wake up next to her, not him.”
“That’s not true.”
“Fine, you wanted to wake up next him, not her.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Whatever,” Flush. “The point is, this isn’t your fight. Let her work it out. She’s a big girl.”
“Wash your hands,” I said. “That’s just disgusting. Look, I’ll just make sure she’s alright.”
“How’s that conversation go in your head? ‘So, missy, I talked with your crazy boyfriend. He’s pretty crazy; you want to break up with him the day after you told me about him?’”
“I think I’d put it more delicately than that,” I said, pulling the stop. I hopped off the bus to grab some coffee while I waited for the O.G.’s opening time to roll around. “Maybe use her name.”
“Let me tell you what you’re going to do: Get this girl out of your head. Find a cute brunette, ask her to dinner tonight, and forget all about Rusty.”
“His real name’s Mortimer, and he’s a mechanic,” I said. “And he’s a pervert the way he brags about her like that.”
“That’s not forgetting; that’s the opposite of forgetting. That’s obsessing,” Kenny said. “Now look: I’ve got better things to do than give you advice you’re not going to take. Swing by before the lanes close, we’ll grab a beer when everyone’s gone.”
“Unless that cute brunette says yes.”
“I’ll be seeing you tonight then.”
I said goodbye and hung up. I really didn’t want to have to see Mortimer again today, because I think, in some way, Kenny was right. But, then again, Kenny was a guy. Guys see things differently; maybe a girl would want to know her boyfriend talked about her like that? You know, get him to treat her right? The problem was, I didn’t have any friends who were girls.
Then again, Kenny was probably right. Lucy wouldn’t listen to a word I said. While I was scanning the Starbucks for any cute brunettes, because Kenny was also right that I should try to get my mind off Lucy’s problem, a thought occurred to me. Fiona owed me a favor, and she was friends with Lucy. Now, I couldn’t just tell her that Lucy’s boyfriend was a son of a bitch, or she’d think I was just angling to break them up.
But, I thought as I checked one girl reading the Times out to decide how dark hair had to go before it stopped being brunette and just started being black, what if she happened to find out Mortimer was an asshole with a big mouth on her own? Wouldn’t some feminine code compel her to speak to Lucy? Now that I think of it, is black hair a subset of brunette? I made a mental note to ask Kenny for clarification. I ordered my coffee and sat at the opposite end of the Starbucks. Then, I started to dial Fiona to ask her to pick up my car from the garage for me this afternoon.