The New M.E. Generation

As time progressed, my bestie and I tried to make fun of whatever this guy and the bitch posted, even as insignificant the post would be, as it was perhaps the only way ‘to get back’ among ourselves to all this guy has done.

For example, clothes. One time there was this photo of both wearing an item of clothes in red, for Valentine’s, of course. He a long sleeve shirt, she a dress.

“That is so idiotic wearing almost the same thing as your significant other,” said I. “And that multi-color tie looks so 80’s! He looks like a waiter in some seafood restaurant. And that dress of hers looks sooo cheap! It’s one of those that not even the thrift stores want it because it won’t sell.”

“More like a casino dealer to me,” said my bestie. “Had it been me, I would never let him go out looking like that. And that shirt is not new. I remember seeing it when I was helping him pack for his move and I asked him about it. He refused to part ways with it like so much other stuff he had. He kept arguing that it was his OCD, blah blah blah. But that’s what happens when you let yourself be influenced by people who don’t have any class; you become like them.”

There was another photo of him at work wearing his mechanic uniform of a blue short sleeved shirt and shorts (that were held in place by a dress belt and the waist folded a few times), white socks and special black shoes (which the front part were worn out and had lost color).

“OMG, he’s so fat he looks like a stuffed sausage,” said I. “And what is that of using a dress belt with his work clothes? What did he do? Buy a ‘one size fits all’ pants so he could use it during all of his weight fluctuations?”

“And those shoes,” said my bestie, “I can understand that you may not want to buy new ones if the current ones are still good. But, please, get yourself a bottle of shoe polish and cover up those scratches. Even the dollar stores sell those.”

I think the funniest photo was one time he received a professional certification for completing a job. He was with the bitch and wearing a long sleeve black jacket, a lime colored polo shirt, and khaki pants.

“Those pants look so big on him; the legs area are really wide. And his hands are so swollen! He must have gained more weight,” said I. “When I first saw him he was somewhat chunky, but nothing bad. The next time he was really thin with a worn out face. He said it had to do with all that he was going through with the breakup and else. The following one he had gained it back, plus more. And his clothes, he seems to be using the same ones over and over.”

“He definitely has gained weight,” said my bestie. “And, yes, he looked bad when he lost it. He looked like someone who just came back from war. When I was with him during his move, he wasn’t taking care of himself. He wasn’t eating, the apartment was dusty and disorganized. It was such a sad place to be physically and emotionally.

And that jacket, pants, and lime polo, he’s had those for the longest and wears them constantly. You can tell they’ve been used far too many times or are out of style because the colors have faded. They’re those he should have started giving away and getting new ones little by little. I miss the days he always dressed so nice. He has turned cheap on that and other things, unfortunately.

Regarding food, he used to take me out to eat and would insist in sharing a plate to save money, or he would take home anything leftover. I understand that it’s not good throwing food away, but if it’s less than a few bites, just leave it.

At least she looks better dressed than him.”

“Next to him, anything that she wears looks good, even on her worst days,” said I. “She looks as bloated as he is. Those pants of her as so tight, they’re about to burst any moment now.”

The ones bursting with laughs were the both of us. Same say laughter is the best medicine. It may not cure all the bad feelings we may still have, but for today, it was just the right dose.

et cetera