We’ve known each other since the first day of high school. I sat in front of him in earth science and he was annoyed because it should have been a hotter girl* and not me (damn you, alphabetical seating arrangement). This act has pretty much defined our relationship and interaction with one another.
A) The fact that he loves to call me P.H.A.T. – Pretty Hefty and Tubby.
B) The fact that his compliments are usually backhanded:
Paul: You look pretty today.
Jaime: Aw! Thanks, buddy.
Paul: Yeah, you’re a lot prettier now than you were in high school. God, you were so nerdy and awkward back then. Why was I even friends with you?
Despite his constant mockery, we’ve managed to become great friends — we’ve made dating battle plans (“Hey! Love is a battlefield!”), traipsed all over Palm Beach County in his Toyota, playing endless hours of video games and he has served as the hub that introduced me to the people I love so dearly, they’ve become family.
One of the things that most impresses me about Paul is just how much thought he has put into survival strategies in case of zombie apocalypse. Yes, zombie apocalypse. Look, I know it sounds nuts, but rent The Crazies and then, tell me I’m wrong.
Anyway, I sent Paul this:
“Whoa! That’s pretty awesome! I thought of a similar launcher way back when zombie planning initially started. Instead of the chainsaw, it launched saw blades. A lot more accurate and aerodynamic and easier to carry more munitions for it. They are like giant ass ninja stars from a cannon! Fucking awesome!”
Paul has actually sat down and thought of an efficient, accurate and aerodynamic way to kill the living undead…and it is for this reason that I will be spending the zombie apocalypse at Paul’s place.
You are more than welcome to join me and if you do, bring booze and chips.
* Dude, you need to give it up. Even if Jessica had sat in front of you in Mr. Jackson’s class, you never had a chance. She liked surfers and burnouts, remember? Also, she’s probably not even cute anymore.