Roller Derby and the Art of Compartmentalization

Transcript

Hey, I'm almost ready. The food should be here any minute. I ordered it when you texted me you were on your way.

So could you keep an eye out? Dude, it's been forever. Where the fuck have you been anyway? I haven't seen you since.

.. Shit, the holiday bout. Two months, asshole.

You're busy. I work a full-time job, play a competitive sport, head two committees for my league, and I still have time to text you and make sure you're still breathing. I mean, it's fine.

I was just worried. I think that's the longest we've gone without hanging out or at least talking. Are my black sweatpants out here? Oh, speaking of which, now that you're suddenly speaking to me again, can I do laundry at your place this week?

Hm? Oh, yeah, that's from Monday's practice, and I had a really bad fall. Can you tell what it is? No shit, it's a bruise.

I landed on my skate when I fell, so this is a perfect outline of a 54mm skate wheel, my friend. It's gonna be my new profile pic. Please, I've seen your nasty-ass feet after one of your races.

At least my battle scars look cool. Oh, this is nothing. Last season, a skater on my team fell and got a wheel in her crotch.

Like, in her, in her. We call those ginershiners. That shit hurts.

Stop walking around in what? These are my uniform bottoms. I wasn't lying when I said I needed to do laundry.

I'm down to boutfits and date underwear. Oh, yeah, you don't drop your pants like an 80s dad the minute you hit your front door. You are so full of shit.

I have probably seen every pair of fucking boxers you own. Ah, here they are. And they are clean.

Oh, um, I think I see the food guy. Can you? Yep.

Um, I'll get drinks once I'm dressed. Okay. What do you want to drink? Uh, yeah, I think I have some beer.

Fuck, no, I don't have IPA. I'm not keeping that shit in my fridge just for you. We're not that close.

I swear that shit's pumpkin spice for dudes. Uh, I have dark lager and some coffee stout. I'm having a diet Coke because it's 11am and I just finished my morning coffee, but you do you.

Here you go. To the couch, sir. I was thinking we'd watch the Rugby Sevens tournament while we ate.

Is that cool? Okay. Okay.

So, what's up with you? First you vanish for two months with no explanation. Now you're giving me non-answers and doing that awkward won't make eye contact thing? Don't be sorry.

Just tell me what's up. Are you okay? Okay.

When will you be? Awesome, soon. And I'm just supposed to run with that until the next time some mystery issue comes up and you ghost me again?

Since when do you have your own shit you don't want to burden me with? You remember when you tried jacking off with Icy Hot? Or when you asked me to recommend a vibrator for your girlfriend's birthday and told me all about her tilted cervix?

You know what? Whatever. Let's just enjoy hanging out and when and if you feel like it, you can clue me in.

Just know that if I did something to piss you off and you don't tell me, you can't be pissed if I accidentally do it again. No baklava for you, asshole. Nope.

That's what you get for being all dramatic and mysterious before noon. Sorry. So any races coming up? Well, that sounds terrible.

Speaking of marathons, did your big toenail ever grow back? Gross. Okay.

How's your imaginary sports ball team? Imaginary fantasy, whatever, it's all fake. Are they winning or rating well or whatever? Okay.

That's good, I guess. How's work? Oh, fine.

Everyone's been taking off to go skiing, so it's pretty slow. I've mostly been working on tech debt and cleaning up our backlog and documentation. Oh, no, it's been great.

I love that kind of shit. I get to listen to audio porn in the privacy of my own home while I work. Shit.

Don't inhale the hummus, dude. Here, you can have my napkin. Fuck down.

I'm so jumpy today. Hey, the new brewery is doing a beer and donut tasting series on Sundays starting next week. Do you want to check it out with me? I have a tattoo appointment the last Sunday of this month, but aside from that, I'm free.

Hmm? Oh, just more on my back piece. The one I started over the holidays.

Holy shit, have you not seen it? Oh, that's right. You did that backpacking thing.

Here, hold on. Check it out. So what do you think? We've got about two more sessions, and then it'll be done.

She's going to put it on her website, her portfolio. Well? Hello? Dude, we've worked out together multiple times.

Are you really clutching your pearls right now because I'm standing here in a sports bra? Shit, I don't even have tits in this thing. My little B-minuses are completely smushed.

Wait. Do you have a new girlfriend or something? That's it, isn't it? Ugh, this is going to be another one of those we-can't-hang-out-anymore-because-you-have-a-vagina-and-I-don't-want-to-make-my-new-girlfriend-uncomfortable conversations.

That's why you were being so fucking weird about me walking around in shorts and a sports bra. Ugh. Okay, how about I promise to only wear muumuus and maintain a respectable five foot distance? Will that make her happy? Thank God for that.

But I think I'm done eating. No, you said you'd handle your shit on your own and you obviously aren't, so talk or leave. This is uncomfortable as fuck and I have better things to do on my day off.

Okay, well, there's the door. I'm not joking. Okay, go on then.

No, keep going. First of all, I'll walk around in whatever I like regardless of my relationship status. Second of all, if you suddenly have an issue with me being in a sports bra and booty shorts after four years of not giving a fuck, you don't have to look.

Third of all, I don't even have a fucking boyfriend at the moment and if I did, he sure as fuck wouldn't be telling me what I can and can't wear in my own home in front of my friends. And lastly, that still doesn't explain why you ghosted me for the past two months and then suddenly want to hang out again. Who? Oh, Al Dorkable? Dark hair? Beard? No, he's just a ref I've been working with for a skating official training program I'm trying to start.

He lives a few streets over and only has a scooter so I drive him to practice on scrimmage nights. Are you going to address the other stuff I said? I'm giving you some grace here because you still haven't told me what's actually going on, but I'm not going to lie, I'm kind of pissed off right now.

If you become one of those 4chan douches, I'm going to shove my skate up your ass. Yeah, the blank face staring at me isn't helping either. Okay.

Apology accepted. Thank you for that. So, you were avoiding me, your best friend, because you thought I was dating someone and assumed they would have a problem with you being around.

Some dude you've never met and didn't bother to confirm the existence of. Wow. That's.

.. that's fucked up. You know, I'm not the one who dates people that have issues with opposite sex friends.

That's a deal breaker. For me, anyway. If I were dating someone and they had an issue with you, they'd be gone.

Because I actually value my friendships more than some asshole I just started dating. Really? Because it sure isn't feeling like it right now.

No, do you know how many times I've walked on eggshells around the women you've dated? I let the last one assume I was a lesbian just so we could hang out without her giving you shit. But I always did it because I didn't want to put you in a position where you'd have to choose between the pussy you were getting and your best friend.

Mostly because I was pretty sure where I'd land. Based on how quickly you'd push me away every time you'd pick up a new girl of the month. And now the one time you think I'm seeing someone you just fuck off without a word? You put the feelings of some imaginary dude over mine.

You need to get the fuck out of my apartment. No, I'm serious. I'm really pissed off and I'm seconds away from saying some shit I know I'm going to regret later.

We can talk next week or something. I just need to cool off and you need to think long and hard about your priorities. Please, just go.

We can work it out, but not today. Stop talking. Just go.

Why are you grabbing me? I don't want to hug you right now. What part of pissed off at you do you not understand? Okay.

You've got five seconds before I hip check you in the dick so hard your future kids are going to feel it. Please get the fuck out of my. ..

Dude! What the fuck was that? Actually, I don't care.

Just get the fuck out now. Now. Before I drag your ass out and you know I can.

Next week. I already said I'd talk to you next week. Please go.

You have one unheard message. Hey, it's Isla. I'm ready to talk if you still want to.

I have scrimmage Tuesday and practice Thursday night and Sunday morning. But aside from that, I'm free. Let me know.

Okay, bye. Hey, come on in. Want a beer? No.

Still no IPA. I have a Kolsch and a Saison. Or Diet Coke or water.

You got it? Here you go. I made guac.

If you're hungry, help yourself. Okay. So.

Go ahead. Nope. I have no idea where to even start, so this is all you.

I'm fine. I'm reserving judgment until I hear you out. I'm sure there's some kind of logical explanation for whatever this is.

Huh. No. I heard you.

I'm just. .. So, you've recently decided you're attracted to me.

Didn't want to be around me when you thought I was with someone else. And now you want to date. Dude, we've been friends since college and all of a sudden on a random ass weekend in February you suddenly want to be boyfriends and girlfriends?

Is this like a boinking bingo card you're working your way through and you're missing the alt girl spot? Yes, I think you're attractive. I compliment you all the time.

Of course I love you. Said that multiple times too. No, I've honestly never thought about us dating.

Yeah, seriously. It's called compartmentalizing. It's how grownups make themselves not think about things to keep shit from getting weird.

Like this. Right now. Because we're extremely different people.

We like different stuff. We operate in the world differently. Oh, it does matter.

This kind of stuff matters. For example, the women you date. They're friendly and bubbly.

They usually teach some kind of flexible fitness. They get up at 5 a.m. to run away from nothing with you.

Lounge around in sports jerseys that they do not wear to play actual sports. And they definitely do not have fantasy colored hair, full sleeve tattoos, and facial piercings. You have tons in common.

You spend all of your time together. And you look like you're co-starring in a North Face ad for puffy jackets or dog life vests or something. Uh-uh.

Still talking. Also, how you date. Your relationships have the shelf life of a fucking avocado.

And you spend most of the vertical parts at sports bars hanging out with mostly your friends. You would hate dating me. I think most of your friends are man-child fuckboys.

I hate mornings. I hate running. I hate sports ball.

I mean, you watch golf. That's just fucked up. Who does that? I was with my last boyfriend for three years.

He came to all my games. I went to all his cons. We dyed each other's hair for fuck's sake.

Please, you went to one of my games. Then you bailed on the after party after promising me you'd go. And then ghosted me for two months.

You know, I got MVP blocker at that bout. A beer and a high five from my best friend would have been nice, you know? No, it's okay.

I'm over it. I knew when I asked you to come it wasn't your thing and you came anyway. I'm not going to force you to pretend to be a superfan, but I will and accept an apology beer.

Look, the point I'm trying to make is that this isn't really what you want. And you would know that if you would just think with your big head for a second. Shit, we wouldn't have even met if we hadn't both been at that weightlifting class freshman year.

Our paths never would have crossed. And my life would really suck without you and I just can't. Okay? Falling in love with your best friend never ends well.

No, no, I wasn't saying. .. Ugh, you are so frustrating.

Compartmentalizing, remember? Just sit your ass down. So, I still have the seventh tournament saved.

Okay, what? What are you doing? Seriously, we're hugging people now? Okay, okay, we can hug for a bit.

Fine, Snuggle, we're snuggling now. That's what you call a hug that won't end. Okay, this doesn't suck.

You have a pretty comfy shoulder. Hmm? Dude, we don't have to talk about your dating life.

I mean. .. No, I just assume you have a short attention span with dating.

A lot of people do. Oh, well. ..

I wouldn't call them boring. They all seemed really not. ..

Yeah, okay, they did kind of look like you got them with your REI credit card points. You can do better anyway. Fuck you smell good.

Like cedar. Like a clean hamster cage. What, in a good way? Why are you still on about this? Okay, I'm calling bullshit on that.

No, I skate in shorts and a jersey. What's too sexy about that? Oh, that's right, the holiday bout was themed.

And I was on Team Naughty. That was the night I tried to play derby in thigh highs in a garter belt and sanded about two layers of skin off my thighs. You didn't want to walk around with a giant boner at the after party? Oh, that's right, you thought I was dating a ref, too.

Okay, did you at least see the big hit I landed in the second half? Yeah, I think that's why I got MVP blocker, she went flying into the wall. I do look hot when I knock people down, thank you for noticing.

Hey, um, could you please stop breathing on my neck like that? I'm not scared of shit. Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Um, okay. Why am I in your lap right now? This seems a little.

.. I will move, I'm just trying to figure out. ..