When Lucy is overwhelmed by her problems, she watches animated movies. Sam? Sam takes the direct approach. He gets drunk with his best friend. One of the ways comedic misunderstandings keep building is that people talk in awkward ways no one does in real life. Read over Kenny's talk with Susan. Don't you think it's odd? He's got Sam's best interests at heart, but, well, that doesn't always work out. Next up, we'll take a trip through Lucy's evening. Which, as you can expect, will be terrible.
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Usually, I knew at what point I crossed from tipsy to drunk. But not tonight. I vaguely recalled making a wobbly attempt at picking up a spare when the lane met my face. I think I threw up in the gutter, which seems appropriate now. Kenny helped me back to the chairs, where he forced some water into me.
“You trying to kill yourself, slow down man.”
“Our benefactor is a cuckold,” I said.
“No, that’s when someone sleeps with his wife.”
“His wife’s a cuckold.”
“I don’t think women can be cuckolds.”
“Damn the patriarchy.” I get philosophical when I’m drunk. “Damn Peter. Damn Rusty. All us men. We suck.”
“Hey, I’m not making sweet romance with your work crush,” Kenny said. “Don’t lay the sins of men at my feet.”
“We’re all the same Kenny,” I said between gulps of water. “Look at us. How many girls have you gone after this week?”
“I’m regular Sam,” He said. “One a day, and twice on Sunday.”
Kenny seemed philosophical when I was drunk. He took my jacket away from the line of potential vomiting. “How many numbers you get this week Sam?”
“None, like always,” I said. “No, wait. I got the outdoorswoman — What’s her name? Susannah? Susan! Susan. Her name was Susan. Well, I didn’t get her. I got her number. Listen to me? I’m a pig.”
“Maybe I’ll do the calling there Sammy,” Kenny said.
“Like hell you will.”
“I’ll just tell her you’re too shy to talk to her,” Kenny said. “Chicks dig that sensitivity. Now don’t do anything silly, like stand up while the world is spinning.”
I heard him riffling through my jacket, but what could I do? The world was spinning. It wasn’t even my frame, so I had no excuse to even stand up. I heard the tell-tale boop-boop-boop-beep-boop-boop-beep of digits being dialed. Wait, shouldn’t there be more boops? Or a bop? Maybe a beepie? God, was I totally gone.
“Hey there, this Susan? No, this is Kenny. I’m calling on behalf of our mutual friend, Susan. Why, yes. Our mutual friend is painfully shy. But you know, I think I can help you there.”
“I drunk hate you Kenny.”
“You know Peter’s little shin-dig? Get him to score you a press pass. Wear something chic, and let me do the rest — my friend can’t resist a gorgeous gal dressed to the nines. Of course; why wouldn’t they be there? Don’t worry your little head there Susan, just let Old Kenny Cupid take care of everything.”
He started calling himself that since he saw some ad for OK Cupid. The last thing I remember Kenny saying is: “Oh, and hey, bring a friend.”