Problem: How does one survive in bizarre, awkward social situations?
Solution: Have cousins that come from interesting places.
Background story: Last night I am out for a burger with my buddy McKenna. Two things about McKenna have stayed the same as long as I have known him: He will always eat the onions off your plate. And he will always be down to hang out with a lady.
So we are having a beer afterwards and this girl calls him. Her name is Brooklyn even though she is from Tennessee. Turns out she is having a drink in a hotel with some of her "friends." I say I'd like to tag along because, well, I like to party. After initially getting the OK for me to come with McKenna, Brooklyn calls him back and says that it might not be a good idea for me to show up, because her friends have gotten into a huge fight and it isn't pretty. "Fighting over me?" I think to myself. Game on, DuRoss. Finally the OK is given and we are headed to the Hampton Inn. Swanky.
As it turns out, Brooklyn's friends were a man and woman, both of whom were in their thirties, possibly forties. To protect their identities (and because I don't remember their names, and because I think a theme would be fun at this point), we will call them Bronx (the woman) and Staten Island (the dude). Bronx and Staten Island both work in a hospital, both come from Tennessee, and have been carrying on in an extra-marital love affair. They have also been drinking since 2 pm that day.
It seems the fight they had been having was over Bronx being upset that Staten Island flew all the way out to see her in California. Staten Island claimed that she asked him to do it. Bronx was now insisting that he fly home immediately. It is unclear who did what when, the point is that the mood in the hotel room when McKenna and I arrived was ICY. What are two happenin' dudes to do in such a situation?
You talk about your cousins.
Now, I happen to have three cousins from Tennessee. "Really?" asks Bronx. "What part?" "Chattanooga," I say. Bronx then proceeds to tell us that she "ate that shit up" and "kept collectin' minors and shit" so that she could spend as much time in Chattanooga as possible as an undergrad at UTC. Since I have been to Chattanooga, I find this hard to believe (no offense, Christianas). She then informs us that, once upon a time, she was actually MISS CHATTANOOGA. Get right out of town! When she says this was in 1998, I start to do the math to determine her current age, think better of it, and move to a different conversation.
By this point, Brooklyn has begun to serve us pink champagne. Tensions have abated, somewhat. Time passes. I see that Staten Island is sitting on the floor trying to arrange a flight out of LA first thing in the morning. It is at this point that I realize that, were this man to suddenly go into a fit of rage, I would most likely be the first person he attacks, given my proximity to him and misguided intentions upon entering the room. If there is a weapon of any sort in his duffel bag, I am in trouble.
He looks up at me. "Where did you say you were from?" I ask. He is from all over, but spent Medical school in Nashville while attending Vanderbilt. Get right out of town! I would go visit my cousins in Tennessee and we would make stops in Nashville! (A lie.) Pretty soon we are talking about the music-business course of study at Belmont College and the high costs of health care. I begin to gain confidence that I will not be the first person killed in the event of a jealous rage. But I am not positive.
More time passes and it is time for me to go. I say my goodbyes to Brooklyn, Bronx, and Staten Island, leaving McKenna to deal with it himself. As I am leaving, I think to myself, how does that guy meet people like this and wind up in these bizarre situations? I asked him that, once upon a time, and you know what he told me?
"Anytime I meet someone new at a bar and they are from out of town, I tell them my cousins are from Ohio."
