This happens to me all the time. My friends will go out without me, then the next day in the retelling of events, they will end their breathless recollection with this: “You should have been there.”
It is always some stupid shit they are telling you happened. “Next thing I know, we are in a limo heading to Mohegan Sun.” “After you left, we decided to go to this other spot, and then we ran into Lebron James!”
My response is always a pointless question asked in utter stupefaction. I would hold my hand up like a student, waiting for a pause in the story to ask, “But isn’t that in a different state?” Or “Was Lebron wearing a hat?”
To which they’ll say, “I know!” “Who cares! It was crazy. All I can say is, you should have been there!”
It gets me every time. I don’t even like going out that much, but once they say that, I growl and vow to come out the next time.
I go the next time and nothing happens. It’s just a lame hang-out, I’m scratching my tired eyes at 9 and wishing I was in my warm bed. We’ll be waiting in line to get into some place and the weather can’t decide if it is raining or snowing, but whatever it is, the cold precipitation is getting into my shoes and I can’t feel my toes.
Or we are singing karaoke at a joint with broken air conditioning, sweaty over-perfumed strangers are brushing up against me. Nuh-uh.
I’m never calling people the next day to say, “You should have been there. Some fat guy with bare arms brushed up against me and rubbed a film of sweat right into my face, some of it even entered my mouth. I sputtered and spat it out like I had just drank soapy bath water.”
We continue this back and forth, I’ll go out a few times, stay in a few times, and whenever I’m not there, they’ll call me with stories.
I would like to blame fate or coincidence for this, and say one day I’ll get lucky and get caught up in something worth calling people about, but I know what the truth is.
The addition of any person into the mix alters the potential outcome. Every time I am there I change the dynamics of the group and the sequence of events that could occur.
Even if we were hurtling towards madness, I possess a dampening effect that resists this. There are words for people like me, and none of them are nice ones.
I know I am holding them back socially so I am no longer surprised when they don’t call before they go out.
It hurts, but what am I going to do. Would you rather have fun and call people the next day with ‘You won’t believe it’ stories, or take your chances with the sleepy guy who keeps saying, “It’s getting late, when is it going to go down?”