Call Me Crazy, Part 1

This is a tale in five acts, in which our heroine is judgmental and preachy, has a temper tantrum, and learns a Big Life Lesson.

This dude from the gym—let’s call him The Linebacker, TL for short—friended me on Facebook maybe three weeks ago. Not sure why. We’d never really spoken. (And no, he wasn’t trying to get in my pants; he got engaged last weekend.)

Anyway, I accepted the friend request, and when I looked at his profile, I realized how very little we had in common:

• religion: Christian
• political beliefs: conservative
• bio: stuff like If Im not progressing than im regressing. Thats why ill NEVER stop working hard. I can rest when I die.
• He attended Duke (not really Duke, but someplace like Duke) on a full football scholarship.

So:

• I’ve got nothing against Christians, but I’m not one.
• I’ve got nothing against conservat—that’s a big, fat lie, coming out my mouth right now. I’ll admit I do feel some malice towards conservatives.
• I generally don’t have much conversational rapport with people who use phrases like “fired up” on a regular basis.
• We all know what an expert I am on football.

Put them all together, well, I just didn’t see us chillin on a Friday night.

(I sound like a judgmental doo-doo head, which I am, but that’s not my point. Right now anyway. He seemed like a good enough dude. I just didn’t think we were going to be besties.)

[continued]