You’re out at the bar with a few friends… let’s say four of you in total. You’re having a good time, drinks and appetizers and whatever else have been ordered. The conversation is flowing and fun… but there’s something missing.
Perhaps your girl/boyfriend hasn’t yet showed up yet. Maybe the person you really set this get together up for in the first place has yet to arrive. Maybe there’s a Mets game on and you want to chop it up with that one buddy of yours that’s a Yankees fan to rub it in his face.
There’s a ton of possible scenarios here, but I think you get my point.
You’re having fun, no doubt, but when that last person arrives… buckle the fuck up, because it’s about to get great. I’m not necessarily (though this person could fill that role) talking about the guy who gets the party started!
It could simply be the funny cousin you never get to see but was looking forward to most, or the girl from work that you have a thing for or that high school buddy you really just click with.
When they show up, it’s fucking on.
The Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: When you thought you were the life of the party, only to be replaced by the person this feeling is talking about.
There’s a ton of shows–frankly too many for me to get into–that I simply have put off watching because I know how I am with this sort of thing. I know I’ll get hooked, I’ll lose all sense of time and space just to squeeze more episodes in and whatever free time I had will be dedicated to finishing the show as quickly as possible–sometimes just for the sake of finishing and not as much enjoying.
Recently, I finished Narcos. I’m not going to say much about the show aside from the fact that I loved it and that Pablo Escobar was on a whole ‘nother fucking level. Dude made mobsters like the ones DeNiro and Pesci have played look like total sissies.
That said, this second season was only 10 episodes–not an enormous time commitment by any stretch–but being done brought me joy on two fronts.
First and most obviously, I was able to see how the season wrapped up and gain some closure of some sort. Second, as I’ve mentioned, I was able to rejoin the living and pick up my life where I’d left it several days before when I began my binge.
It gets so all-encompassing that, in this instance, I was beginning to think of things to say in Spanish and wishing more shows were subtitled.
The Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: When you’re really into a new show (ahem, Public Morals on TNT) and they take it off the air before it reaches its natural conclusion.
I’m not what you’d call tidy. If we’re thinking in terms of an Odd Couple sort of dynamic, I’m closer to Oscar than I am Felix.
However, that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate a good cleaning.
One of my favorite things to do, as strange as this sounds, is to clean up my place after we’ve had a big party.
There’s something about the transition, within an hour or so, from complete chaos, grime and mess to burning candles, empty garbages, spotless floors and clear table tops that gets me going.
One minute you’re staring at a sea of wounded soldiers, that crusted bowl of salsa and a stench of old beer and fart. The next, it’s spick and motherfucking span. That lemony aroma takes over, the hum of your dishwasher and finally being able to see your floor and tables clearly again.
What a transformation.
Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: Staring at this mess and realizing… this is going to take a while. But it’s worth it, friends.
As a kid growing up, two things legitimately scared the ever-loving-shit out of me.
Speaking to women I found attractive.
Speaking in front of a crowd.
These were paralyzing fears. It took me nearly a week to ask a girl out sitting in front of me in Chemistry my junior year of high school. And as for class projects that required a presentation of any kind, let’s just say I prayed for a fire drill.
Looking back on it now, it’s funny I ever had a girlfriend, was intimate with any woman ever or was a stand-up comedian for a time.
Either way, those are generally rear-view mirror type deals for me so whenever I find myself in a position where I have to speak publicly, I have to rev up the ol’ engines again.
Most recently that was when I gave a best man speech at my friend’s wedding. I knew I could do it and, honestly, had confidence that I could do at least a pretty solid job. But that said, I was still nervous as all hell leading up to it. Like, it’s-a-real-possibility-I-may-sweat-through-my-suit-jacket-here-type nervous.
The only true relief came when it was over. I knew I had done a decent job, I had gotten some laughs and hit all the notes I wanted to hit (all from memory, boo yah!).
But most importantly, it was over. I was finished. I could relax and enjoy the rest of my night.
That relief::this feeling.
Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: The rejection of anything publicly, whether it’s a failed joke in a wedding speech or a girl telling you she’d rather do anything other than go out with you.
Relationships are all about hand. Who has it, who uses it and who applies it to end said relationship.
Most people think they don’t have hand. The reason for that is simple: the ones they do have hand with, they don’t want and the ones they don’t have hand with are the ones they want (and think about the most).
With small exception, we’ve all ended relationships with other people. Unless you’re a sadist or the other person was a real piece of shit, it never feels good directly to do it. However, the one nice thing is that you were the one who left with the (upper) hand.
So it’s in this vein we get to feeling number sixty two.
You’re out with some friends, let’s say you’re getting drinks. You may have another girl in your life at this point, you might not. But at a certain point in the evening you receive a text from a girl you ended things with a few months back.
It’s only a few words, probably innocent enough and almost assuredly regrettable in the morning. You likely won’t even respond because, as we all know, you have the upper hand and don’t want to relinquish that.
But, the ego stroke that comes from knowing someone was still thinking of you?
That’s pretty damn nice.
Polar Opposite of This Feeling?: Being the person that sends this message and hearing NOTHING from the person. Fuck them.
For me there’s a number of choices that fill this role, but here are the top entries, in no particular order.
Any of the Back To The Future movies. And yes, that includes the third one, you high-brow son-of-a-bitch.
Casino, or as it’s commonly known, Goodfellas 2
Goodfellas, which at this point I could almost certainly watch with the sound (and possibly the video) entirely off.
Gangs of New York. I recognize this may not be on many people’s lists, but I fucking love that movie. Almost every single scene with Daniel Day Lewis is mesmerizing.
The Departed. I know, I know. Gangster movie number four. Predictable. But, for real, this movie is more than that. Sure, the gangster elements are great, but it’s really a complete film–and insanely quotable.
There’s more, I’m sure, but you get the point.
Fact is, when you’re aimlessly drifting through your TV’s guide function and it’s just an endless desert of shit, there’s nothing like coming across that Casino oasis. You’re locked in.
Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: Thinking you’ve found a good one only to realize that in your excitement you didn’t notice it was basically over. The search begins anew.
Once again, I’m realizing that I’ve doubled up on an item in the list.
As I was preparing to write a top-25 feeling about avoiding traffic, I went and looked at what I’d already written on the subject. I knew I’d done something about traffic moving… I didn’t know that I’d done it twice.
So, I’m getting rid of that one and putting it all in feeling number 60, where you can see both.
As for the new feeling… this actually happened to someone I know very recently. I wasn’t the person making the reference so I didn’t get to enjoy the feeling firsthand, though I did get to laugh heartily at how great of a reference it was so I did get some enjoyment.
Long story short… there’s a guy that plays shortstop for the Kansas City Royals named Alcides Escobar. He has re-signed with the Kansas City Royals. There’s also a rapper named Nas who sometimes has gone by the moniker “Nas Escobar.” My friend joked with me and another friend that it would be funny if this otherwise regular news story had been promoted by saying “Escobar Season Has Returned.”
I laughed uncontrollably for a good two minutes.
If you’re not, that honestly proves the point of this feeling. What makes it so great is that it’s not always for everyone and you never know A) when it’ll work or B) who it’ll come from.
This particular friend was not the person I’d have pegged as making as Nas joke, nor did it ever occur to me to equate those two individuals.
It was an offhanded comment that came apropos of nothing (Escobar had signed months prior, Nas wasn’t playing… Shark Tank was on the TV) and that’s what made it so great.
Out of nothing came this wonderful reference. Its spectacular beauty is precisely its limited audience.
Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: Going out on that limb and falling flat. Badly. Or, making the reference and having it go well… but then continuing to push it and push it til the joke is dead.