He’s always considered himself somewhat of the fashionista. Even back when we were in our 20’s, the rest of us would go to ball games in t-shirts and jeans and he’d be spiffed up in his Beaver Cleaver plaid.
Sometime between his first and second marriages it extended to other areas of his life. Suddenly he wanted an espresso machine. He’d go out with us, we’d have a an after dessert Perino, he wanted a (swear to God) a “Cuppachino”. Don’t know who ever corrected that for him, but he’s got it now.
Married the second time to a nice Italian girl that apparently only he knew was insane. The rest of us still kinda like her, and her extended family. He considered her kinda hoity-toity, which he liked, because he easily chose to join in and be the shopping snob. She was a little bit of a step up the ladder for him, in that she expected a lot in terms of material things but her family were just folks.
They married on the beach in Sanibel all by themselves.
They had the Sub-Zero and Viking in the kitchen. The fashionable small brick home in the neighborhood with $1 Million homes. He’d make fun of himself for having the smallest home on the street.
They traveled constantly - Italy, Hawaii, Barbados, Prague…
He will NOT wear a pair of gym shoes out anywhere. Makes fun of people that do. Is sorta proud of not even owning any.
Drives a red BMW 325 that he bought back when that was the car to have. Still has it 140,000 miles later, and constantly bitches about how much it costs to repair and maintain.
Found a nice girl about 18 months ago, she moved to Oregon after she figured he’d never commit. Me and the other guys once again did the “keep him drunk and not alone” routine, just like after both divorces.
Following our collective advice, he finally just up and flew there one day and showed up on her doorstop. Rough patch, happy ending - so far.
She’s very nice, very non-assuming.
Lately he’s become the Man in Black, or Grey… Crew sweaters, pleated wool slacks, those sweaters with the big diamond patterns on them that girls wore in the 50’s. He dresses his father’s age and I’ll bet he doesn’t own anything even resembling a hoodie or one of those two-sizes too big t-shirts you wear around the house or to cut the grass.
He’s pretty sure he knows a lot more about things than you do. Not obtrusively, or rude, just one of those guys that will tell you what you didn’t know. Even if you knew better.
ALL women want him after meeting him. It’s kind of funny actually. I’d give examples, but it’s take a while. Let’s just say that while he’s a great conversationalist, he’s ugly as ass stuffed in a drainpipe and covered with squirrel roadkill.
Through all this, there’s a core of about 4 of us that have been friends for over 25 years. Stood up in each others weddings. Like I said, kept him company in between marriages when he’d play bar shark and we’d all be wingmen. Through all this, we just kind of laugh silently, because hey, deep down he’s a really good guy. And none of us perfect either. In fact any one of is bound to be the biggest jerk in the room at any given moment. We’re fun in our own way.
But we were at a wedding Sunday of a mutual friend. By the way, the ex-girlfriend of his second wife’s nephew. Second wife was there, along with a good chunk of her family. Also, by the way, he makes claims about the bride and the fairly recent past that go along with a couple paragraphs up.
We’re standing at the snack and cocktail reception afterwards. I come back from grabbing a couple Stellas at the bar, and notice for the first time - chin pubes.
Just the tiniest square directly under his lip. Yes, it’s intentional, he didn’t just miss.
I think I’m gonna hurl. You think you know a guy, and suddenly: chin pubes.
