A Pokémon Problem
(1) - What Happened Last Night
"C'mon, man! It'll be fun!"
"No," I grumbled, wishing that my roommate would leave me alone. Ryder was generally good company. That is, until he wanted you to do something. "I told you once, and I'll tell you again...
"...No."
"For crying out loud," complained Ryder as he went over to the coffee pot and poured himself a cup. "We haven't done anything in forever. When was the last time you even left the house?"
I stared stone-faced into my bowl of Raisin Bran. "I don't remember," I mumbled through a mouthful of cereal. "But I am not, I repeat, am not going to play a goddamn children's game with you and your other friends!"
Ryder shook his head and sat down at the opposite end of the four-man table. "Says the guy who watches a show for little girls," he murmured under his breath right before he took a sip.
"What was that?!"
"Nothing."
I glared at him for a little while before continuing to shove spoonful after spoonful of cereal into my mouth. It was almost noon already, and I was just having my breakfast. Honestly, that's earlier than I normally get up. In fact, the only reason why I was up at this hour was from being pestered by my roommate.
Ryder glared back, his eyes shining with a repressed smile as he drank his disgustingly plain coffee.
He takes his coffee black. Horrendous. Despicable. I can't stand anything other than three cream and three sugars in mine, and he drinks his as soon as it comes out of the goddamn pot.
Gross.
Ryder grabbed the newspaper that was always on our table, but was never actually read, and pretended to read it. "...Quit being such a prick about it," he finally said, his face hidden behind the moveable printed type.
I catapulted a raisin at him with my spoon. It bounced off the newspaper. You win this battle, but the war is not yet over...
"When was the last time you even played Pokémon, huh?" he continued, my bombardment not dissuading him in the least. "That game was our freakin' childhood, man! It's nostalgic!"
I studiously ignored him and continued munching on my tasteless cereal, the only good part being the occasional burst of sweet.
"Fine," he relented. "Be that way. I suppose I'll just have to tell Cindy that you have other plans..."
That got my attention. Until, that is, I realized what he was doing.
"You're fuckin' with me," I deadpanned, knowing that he was almost certainly lying to get me to go to his stupid Pokémon playthrough party. "There's no way in hell that Cindy is going to your little get-together!"
"Maybe I am messing with you," my roommate replied cryptically as he took another sip of black horror. "But could you live with yourself if I'm not? When would you get another opportunity like this?"
You dirty motherf--
"Fine," I sighed, throwing my hands up in defeat. "If your hot co-worker is attending, then I'll go too."
"Sweet! I knew that you'd--" he began, but I cut him off with a raised hand.
"But if I find out that it's a sausage fest..." I stated.
"Then there's going to be hell to pay, Ryder.
"Hell. To Pay."
My roommate gulped. "D-Don't worry about it, bro. I got it under control."
"You'd better, or you shall regret the day you came into this world."
My threats were baseless; I wouldn't actually do anything to make him regret ever being alive. Ryder and I had been friends since elementary school.
Still, that doesn't mean that I can't pressure him every now and again, right?
With my evening and early morning now planned, I went back to eating and began planning what I was going to say to Cindy.
"Really?" I asked as we walked along a dirty sidewalk. We were fast approaching Ryder's friend Seth's dingy apartment. "This is the place? I thought that this whole block was condemned a couple of years ago."
"Trust me; it's a lot nicer on the inside."
"I'll be the judge of that."
A couple of minutes and a knock on the door later, I found myself entering the not-so-humble abode of Seth.
First off, it was a lot nicer on the inside. The dark purple carpet was soft and plush, what little wall that wasn't covered by a poster was a nice, light blue, and the entire apartment seemed spotless. Suspiciously so.
It also smelled faintly of Chinese food.
Hah! I knew that there was no way that anyone was that studious of a cleaner!
Seth didn't strike me as a fanatical and overzealous housekeeper.
"So?" asked the man of the house. "Whaddaya think? I clean up nicely, don't I?"
I had to struggle to keep myself from laughing. Seth was a slightly overweight, twenty-something that worked out of his home selling stuff on the Internet. He was wearing a pair of track pants several sizes too large --he kept having to pull his pants up-- along with a white button shirt, complete with stereotypical pocket protector. His socks had dinosaurs on them.
It took me a few seconds to realize that when he said, 'I clean up nicely', he meant his home.
"Oh, uhh, yeah. Looks spotless. I wish I had your neat-freak attitude sometimes," I said uncomfortably, trying to make conversation with someone I've only heard about. "My everything is a mess."
Seth laughed, a sound that was eerily reminiscent to a mall Santa's hearty chuckle. He put a meaty arm around my neck and predicted as he wipes a tear from his eye, "I think you and I are going to get along just fine."
Great. Haven't even been here for a minute, and we're already best buds. Fantastic.
I tried to spot Ryder, but it appeared that he'd disappeared for the moment.
"So," I said as casually as I could manage while I stepped out from under Seth's friendly arm, "what's the setup for tonight?"
"Why don't you take a look?" he replied with a smile as he motioned for me to step into what I presumed to be the living room.
I nearly dropped the fragile bag full of liquor bottles that I was carrying in shock. If I smoked and happened to be smoking at that point in time, I'm sure the cigarette would've fallen out of my gaping mouth.
Six top-of-the-line computers, all working and turned on, were humming quietly on a large, mahogany table. In front of each computer was a leather gaming chair, complete with swivel and all.
I gravitated a little bit closer and noticed even more stuff. Lying on the center of the table was a literal pile of junk food.
Chips, pop, candy, chocolate... you name it, it was there. My mouth began watering just looking at the plethora of food that would end up giving me diabetes if I somehow managed to eat it all.
"Holy. Shit."
At this point, I didn't even care if Cindy showed up. It would've been a nice bonus, but I had all the love I needed right there.
Upon seeing my expression, Seth laughed again. "It's not the best setup," he said modestly, "but it should do for tonight."
"'Not the best'?" I parroted, completely sure that he was bluffing.
After Seth nodded, I asked "How in the hell did you manage to pay for all this computer stuff?" while still staring at the gently humming, black computers.
I don't have an electronic fetish, but damn are those data processing machines sexy.
"I run an online computer store," explained Seth. "I think it's only fair that I get to... test some of the merchandise before shipping it off."
Fair enough.
I heard a flush come from down the hall, followed immediately by running water. A few seconds later, I heard the squeak of hinges as a door opened, then soft footsteps.
"Ryder," I began without turning around, as I already knew that it was him. "Come check this out."
"Hmm? What's got you--"
The abruptly sudden ceasing of his words told me that he wasn't aware of how ridiculously awesome this night was going to be.
"..."
Yeah.
"...Oh my," Ryder finally said. I shared his sentiment. "Seth, you didn't tell me that you upgraded..."
"I wanted it to be a surprise," admitted Seth as he shrugged his large shoulders, "and I wanted it to be as nice as possible, seeing as how we have some... lady friends coming over as well."
I raised an eyebrow at Ryder. "Right?" was all I asked.
"Yep," he replied confidently, all traces of his former apprehension gone. "In fact, they should be here any min--"
Ding-dong.
"--ute. Oh shit, they're here already?!" Ryder finished. The confidence in his voice disappeared as quickly as it had appeared in the first place.
I stepped aside as Ryder sprinted towards the door, only pausing to make sure his hair was fully cooperating and that his shirt was wrinkle free. I couldn't help but crack a smile at seeing my friend so flustered. He never was the best around chicks.
I decided to avert my eyes from the potential train wreck, and concerned myself with unloading the alcohol.
"S'alright if I use your fridge?" I asked the big man beside me, shaking the bag of booze for good measure. "There's nothing worse than a warm beer."
"Go ahead," Seth replied nervously. "I'm going to go..." he trailed off, watching the front door intently. "...Do something else. Be right back. Tell everyone to make themselves at home."
I shook my head as Seth trundled down the hallway. Bunch of amateurs. Hopefully some alcohol would help them relax.
I never had problems with understanding women. Ever since middle school, I just seemed to grasp how the inner machinations of the female mind worked. I should probably write a book or something: guys would line the streets to know what I know.
But then again, I like being the suave smooth-talker. If every male knew what I knew, then I would simply be just another unemployed guy.
Yeah, on second thought, I'll keep my understanding to myself.
As I began stocking the relatively empty fridge with all sorts of things to keep us plastered throughout the night, I heard the front door open and a flustered Ryder fumble over his prepared speech. Thankfully, I heard a giggle or two, meaning that he hadn't managed to scare Cindy off.
I busied myself for a few more seconds while I waited for Ryder to finish making a fool of himself. After I heard the door shut and Ryder make his excuses as to why he needed to start setting up the computers, I stepped around the kitchen corner while cracking open a can of beer. Just as I was about to say my perfect, pre-thought speech, I stopped dead in my tracks for two reasons.
One, Cindy looked drop-dead gorgeous, and I was awestruck almost every time I saw her. Right then and there, she was wearing tight, black yoga pants and nothing but a thin long-sleeve shirt overtop her perfectly sized breasts that were contained --just barely-- underneath a T-shirt.
Two, because my overly-attached girlfriend grabbed me in a vice-like bear hug and started squeezing the life out of me like an old toothpaste container.
Perhaps I should clarify.
I didn't think of her as my girlfriend anymore, but she did. I'm sure you can imagine just how fun that is.
I thought that Miranda, my ex, was perfect: she was kind, funny, and sexy. One day, however, I found out that she had ideas regarding the... bedroom part of our relationship that were...
...Rather uncomfortable for me.
I don't want to talk about it.
Long story short, I told her that we should probably see other people. She chose not to hear that, so I was forced into hiding. Luckily, she didn't know where I lived. Unluckily, I had to change my freakin' phone number: she wouldn't stop calling me.
Now, almost two weeks later, seeing as how both Miranda and Cindy came here together, I could only presume that they were good friends at the very least. Which, in turn, made my original purpose in going there that much more difficult.
"I'm so glad to see you, honey bunch!" she murmured into my ear as she rested her head on my shoulder, standing on her tip-toes to do so. "You must've changed your phone number or something, because I've called you so many times..."
"Uh," I replied, painfully aware that Cindy was watching Miranda cling to me like I was some sort of stand-in for an Axe commercial. "Y-Yeah. D-Didn't I tell you?"
"Mmm-mm," she mumbled.
"Oh! Well, that was really stupid of me, wasn't it?" I said, trying to find a way to weasel myself out of this situation.
My chance came a lot sooner than I expected.
"Where's the little girl's room, sweetie? I need to freshen up," said Miranda, interrupting my mental shutdown sequence.
"Down the hall, first door on your right, I think," I replied mechanically, briefly remembering the direction of sounds back when I first called Ryder over to look at the computer arrangement.
"Be right back~" she said in a sing-song voice after lightly tapping me on the nose. Her hips rolled seductively as she strode down the hallway.
I had to literally force myself not to whine like a dog being kept from his favourite toy. Miranda had just reminded me of all the reasons why we were together in the first place.
"I didn't know that you and Miranda were a couple! You two look so cute together!"
I grimaced inwardly. That was NOT what I had wanted to hear.
Reluctantly, I turned around and faced Cindy properly, forcing myself to keep my composure. "Yeah. To be completely honest, neither did I," I said with an exhausted sigh finishing off my sentence. I looked down at the beer in my hand.
I was going to need something with a little more kick than that.
"You want a drink?" I asked as I opened up the freezer.
She eyed my beer. "Have anything stronger?"
I whimpered inwardly. This just wasn't fair...
"Yeah." I pulled out a bottle of ice-cold vodka from the freezer and a couple cans of the latest energy drink. "Booster Shots sound good?"
"Like you wouldn't believe," Cindy replied.
I grabbed two shot glasses that were conveniently placed nearby. Before I could even start pouring the bottle of crystal clear alcohol however, there was a brief knock pattern at the door.
Knock-knock knock-knock-knock. Knock-knock.
Upon my realization that I had just heard the knocking equivalent of 'Shave and a Haircut', the door opened and a familiar man sporting a buzz cut backed into the apartment, his arms full of pizza boxes.
"Sorry I'm late," he half wheezed, half called as he attempted to close the door with his foot, nearly falling over in the process. "Facade's Pizza was just a tad further than I remember it being," he continued, "and as I was walking along, minding my own business, I caught a glimpse of these two, smokin' hot--"
The nearly bald man halts mid-sentence, his mouth slightly open as he turned around full circle and noticed both Cindy and I.
Still in mid-pour, I raised an eyebrow.
"--Hot... hotdogs! Yes, I caught a glimpse of two smoking hot hotdogs on one of those hotdog carts. You know, the conveyor belt type?" he finished, putting on the cheesiest (no pun intended) smile that I'd ever seen.
I had to give Caleb credit: he could make up a story on the fly.
Caleb and Ryder had been good friends for years, almost as long as Ryder and I had been friends. I'm pretty sure I had pissed him off a couple of years ago, and I can't remember why...
Oh yeah. I stole his girlfriend. What can I say? I have a way.
Well, honestly, she stole me, but it's not like he'd be able to tell the difference.
Hoping to start off the night with a positive note, I asked him, "Up for a vodka-energy drink shot?"
"Sure, I'll take a Booster," he replied evenly. I grunted. Neutrality was better than dyslogistic comments any day of the week. With a nodded affirmation, I reached for another glass.
"You'd better get me one too!" Miranda called out before she clambered onto my back, crossing her legs across my chest and cinching her arms around my neck. "I love Red Stag!"
This was one of the few times that I resented the fact that Miranda took gymnastics.
"Might as well make one for everybody..." I grumbled as I added three more glasses to the shot line.
When I had filled each and every glass with equal amounts of liquid energy and liquid courage, I turned to see everyone present and accounted for, even Ryder and Seth.
Without a signal, all of us grabbed a glass and clinked them together in one uniform motion.
"To Pokémon!" they chanted before slamming the drinks back.
"To Pokémon," I said quietly before downing the concoction in one gulp.
I hope that I won't regret this decision, but I've a sneaking suspicion that I already have...