Gary Rinsem

Think Faster and Carry a Big Stick

The big stick was an intervention, aka, Chicken In The Park, May 31, 2001.

Chauffeured on the mysterious insistence of the group, I was at their mercy and without a clue. The ride was made to seem like a friendly outing. It had a purpose, they wanted me dependent on them and the plan they'd hatched.

A wonderful late afternoon together was spent exactly as anticipated, as tradition dictated, talking and laughing over memories of the past and expectations for the future. Except for one oddity. There seemed to be an unspoken theme to the day, one they'd all agreed upon in advance. The feeling gnawed at me until dusk, just before our critical moment of sunset when I figured out what was different about this year.

I asked what they were up to and got denial at first. They relented when my demands grew serious, when they couldn't smile away my suspicion that they'd all been working together toward a secret goal. My close friends decided six years was long enough to mourn the death of BB. They'd planned the celebration to be a subtle intervention, where they thought they could manipulate my emotions into acceptance of a new relationship.

Nikki and Erica are coworkers and roommates and free spirited best friends who share their bed with a third whenever they find one. They're not exclusive and not romantically bonded. They are far too young for me, I suspect early twenties. They claim mid thirties.

After ten minutes of silence as the sun set, I was introduced over the phone to Nikki and Erica. The girls led up to the call with stories about them, insisting I'm a match to Nikki and Erica's outlook. Turns out they were right, we've become very close in five months. I just wish they'd turn off the horrid music. It leaves no doubt about their true age.

Several times in the weeks after CITP 01, the ladies assaulted my house like a swat team. Bringing food and a party attitude they got me to set up and start playing on three dating web sites. I resisted, they were relentless. Back to being as sluty as I was in my early twenties, except dating sites are far more fun than bars and restaurants and malls. Minder Binders and Lonegans got nothing on this.

2020 Note: Sue read this on my computer in 2005. She told me her girlfriends did the same with her, perhaps without planning it. They'd been to her place looking over dating prospects and giving suggestions. When we met I'd been enjoying that scene for several years. Sue was far too uptight, too square. In several months on the site she hadn't accepted a single date or even a phone call.