Yesterday my father graciously opened up an account for me at a nice, fancy gym.
My membership, however, exists on the condition that once I become "established," I will take over payment.
I asked my father what he meant by established, just to be a shit. I know what it meant. It means not sleeping till noon, haphazardly job searching until your eyes get tired, then making yourself cocktails with the different fruit juices that your mom buys. Pretending, while you cocktail, that you are the star of your own highly successful snarky, hip cooking show. Or putting on the first act of Les Miserables on the house stereo system, printing out the lyrics, and performing for two sleepy, non-plussed poodles.
I don't think that constitutes "established."
On my gym member application form, there is a box where you list two friends for a referral and a free week trial membership. After a deliberation that was a bit too long, and a scan of my contacts, I grudgingly listed one acquaintance. Proud of myself, I announced my successful listing to my father.
"You need more friends."
Dad! I said.
"No, it's not a put-down!" he explained. "It's a fact."
"It's a fact! We all need friends, you and I. We need friends."
"Dad, that's worse. It's worse that it's a fact."
We had a brief word scuffle, me finally conceding that he was more of the opinion that I needed friends because it's a general need of the human race, as in we are not really solitary creatures, even if you live in Folsom.
So I don't need friends because I haven't brushed my hair in two days, or plan to perform Act 2 for Bear and Otto tomorrow. I need friends because I'm human.