The New M.E. Generation











It was a long night, but a great one. We got home and I was ready to hit the bed after an exhausting day like this. Plus, we were driving tomorrow to celebrate my birthday and staying at his mom’s house, which was to take at least 4 hours to get there.

And just when I thought it was safe to end the day, turns out my friend wasn’t in any mood to do that.

“Are there any open bars around here?” said he in a very wired tone, like if someone had put a drug on his drink or something. “I don’t get to party much and I want to take advantage of this vacation,” continued he.

I gave him an upset look of ‘this is not new year’s eve or going to party like it’s 1999’. “What do you mean? All places are closed at this time,” replied I.

I could have expected this behavior from any other guy, but him? This was totally new to me. The guy I remembered would always get organized ahead and go to bed early, especially when it had to do with a trip that included seeing his mom, the one person he always said to love so much and hated being away from.

He was still looking at me like ‘let’s bring down this house’ with eyes lost in party central. He was so ‘up and going’ that had he had the chance to go anywhere by himself, he would have done it and left me behind.

I had a facial expression of ‘if you leave this apartment, don’t even bother to come back’. He may have been my friend and loved him unconditionally, but I wasn’t going to put up with any stupidities from any guy, including him, just like he had taught me to.

I don’t recall what happened next, but he didn’t leave. He slept in the sofa and I in my room with the door closed, checking my surroundings every so often, just like the night before.

Even with all that happened, I managed to have a good night’s sleep. I woke up rather early; the plan was to try to leave as soon as possible to take advantage of the day.

I stood right at him and he was really crashed. He was deep asleep face up and didn’t felt me there, even when I stick my face almost touching his or when his phone vibrated with a call.

I wondered again if I should take up on his proposition, but this time I really wasn’t feeling it, even less after the stunt he almost pulled off last night. I thought had he done that, I don’t think jumping on top of him or slapping his face would have woken him up.

He obviously wasn’t coming out of his semi-comatose state, so I finished my luggage and ate something quickly.

I could hear his phone buzzing a few more times and he eventually woke up. I didn’t make any comments again regarding the night before. I just wanted to concentrate on the weekend and myself.

My friend went back to being who I remembered him for, focusing on the day ahead and moving forward accordingly. He answered the phone, got up, and ready. We left later than expected, but we did it.

I drove my car and he used his phone’s GPS to lead the way. We even talked about anything and everything, past and present, as we traveled.

It took me back all the way to high school when we didn’t know what life was holding up for us, but somehow managed to find the right way to get there.

Hopefully there will be more other detours that get this trip off track again.



In spite of my very early ‘wake-up call’, I did manage to get a good night’s sleep. When I woke up I was feeling rested and decided to stay in bed.

But after a short while the blurry memory of the text message came back. I felt compelled in reading it in full, but decided not to. I just didn’t want to get upset again more than I had been the day before.

I decided to avoid loosing control and give myself a good breakfast with some strong coffee. Then I sat down and decided what to do next.

I had two choices, either delete the message or call him and express my discontent with what he wrote. Sounds good but getting him on the phone, that’s an impossible.

So, yes, why don’t I try the second when I will most probably won’t get my message across? If he doesn’t answer I’ll leave a message to call me back, erase the text and continue with my day as usual.

All right, let’s do this … and it’s ringing, ringing, waiting for the call to go to voicemail, and … he answered!

“Hey, how are you?” asked I.

“Fine, how about you?” said he.

Wow! For the first time that I remember, he’s finally talking normal.

“Listen, I know our dates haven’t been the best, but your message in the wee hours of the morning was too much,” said I.

“Sorry, I was drunk.” (No kidding, but at least we finally agree on something.) “But you shouldn’t have let me drive home.” (Here we go again!)

“Well, guess what? I’m not having sex with you. Second of all, it is my apartment and I will do whatever I want.”

“OK, OK, I’m sorry!”

I don’t remember what else was said, but it ended in a ‘in between’ note, meaning neither good or bad. How many times will there be an ending? When will the end of the end finally occur?



et cetera