I hadn’t gotten to know James very well when Chris introduced us at the bar. All I knew was that he could shoot pool and was dying to get laid. He had a game plan for both: Play all the best angles. And he was aggressive about his game plan. Nevertheless, it seemed to get him a lot further on the pool table than it did with the ladies.
Chris had only known James for a couple of months. Two weeks ago, the two had been at Winterland for St. Patrick’s Day and James had helped Chris meet his latest love interest. James was taking a piss on the wall outside and called out to some girls walking by. Chris noticed the exchange and came over to introduce himself to the young ladies. He hit it off with one of them, Lauren, and the rest was history. Well, not really.
Now James was in my living room, cracking jokes and a can of Coor’s Light. He seemed harmless enough. Sure, some of his jokes were risqué, and he had a penchant for exaggerating his sexual exploits, but otherwise he appeared to be a nice enough guy in small doses.
That night, we got a large dose of James.
Chris and my brother, Daniel, started drinking Black Velvet and Coke before James arrived and they didn’t take a break until dinner time, when they went over to James’ mom’s house for “the best burgers they’ve ever tasted in their lives. No joke.” Everyone was relaxed.
Before visiting James’ mom, we found out her name was Alberta. This might not seem important, but it’ll come into play later. Stick with me.
Chris latched onto the name with gusto, and when the 50-something woman asked for a beer, he responded with an emphatic, “Oh, I got you Alberta!” His forthrightness made us all laugh, but I later wondered if it bothered James a little.
That evening, we went our separate ways. Chris, Daniel, James, Lauren and another friend, Dorothy, went to a party at a friend’s house while I headed back to Winterland for metal night.
When we reconvened at home around 1:30 am, everyone had had enough of James. My brother told me James had tried to start a fight at the party with a confused guest. Now, at our dinner table he was rambling on and on about how he had played matchmaker for Chris and Lauren.
“I hooked you up with your fuckin’ wifey, cuz,” he rambled.
“I owe you everything,” Chris responded sarcastically.
Then James asked Lauren about her cup size. Then he spilled a beer. Then he tried to give Chris more relationship advice. Finally, he started making nonsensical raps. All of these antics were forgivable as the goofy escapades of a man who had had a few too many. We were goofing around at that point. But then things got weird. And rather annoying.
“You’re being ridiculous,” Chris said.
“Oh, I can be ridiculous. I can be ridiculous. I really can,” James answered. And he couldn’t have been more correct.
At about 2:30 we were gathered in the living room, listening to James freestyle about dishes in the dishwasher and whatnot. We listened as he started a new rap about his ‘G’s “that didn’t survive.” He started grunting out the chorus in a way that we couldn’t help but laugh at. This apparently offended James. He became rigidly serious. Chris told him to shut up, which he didn’t appreciate. A few minutes later, Chris complimented Alberta’s cooking again and James went off. He told Chris to stop talking about his mama. Chris just laughed it off, telling James to relax; he was complimenting her cooking. But James was defensive.
“My mama fed you. And she will continue to feed you.”
At that point, my brother and I went out of the room because we didn’t want James to see us cracking up. A few seconds later, Lauren came out to tell us we needed to break up a fight. Chris let his temper go and pounced on James. It was just a little more than a shove, but things were beginning to get out of hand. We separated the two of them, sending Chris out to cool down.
Daniel and I talked to James for 10 minutes, trying to make him realize that Chris was actually complimenting his mom, not saying anything bad about her. He just couldn’t get it. He sat there, actually trembling, just saying, “Not about my mama. Not about my mama,” in a whisper. Daniel and I were befuddled. There was no reasoning with this man.
Finally it looked like James and Chris were going to make up. But James still couldn’t drop it.
“Cuz, you can’t be talkin’ ‘bout my mama. That woman gave birth to me.”
And so Chris lost it again. He shoved James and shouted at him. My brother and I had to separate them once more. That was it for me.
I asked Lauren if she would drive Chris home. I went upstairs, grabbed my keys and license, and stormed back downstairs. Somebody said, “Hey, it’s cool now,” but I paid no attention. James and Chris were standing together, seemingly trying to patch things up, but I didn’t care. I was on a mission. I grabbed the beers from their hands and stashed them by the sink.
“Alright! Chris, you’re going home with Lauren and I’m taking James home!” I barked. “Let’s go!”
James stood in the hallway. “Come on, cuz,” he pleaded.
I stood right in his face. “We’re done. Let’s go. We’re done. We’re done. We’re done.” Until he finally gave way and moved toward the front door.
Outside, I asked him to get into the car. He refused, saying he would just walk the three blocks to his mom’s place. I offered again, but again he refused. So I gave him a cigarette and sent him on his way. Or so I thought.
Chris asked if he could stay, now that James was gone. “I’m fine,” he said. I reluctantly agreed to let him crash, like he normally does on Saturday nights, knowing he was sobering up and wouldn’t cause any more problems now that James was gone.
I headed to bed, but the adrenaline kept me from lying down. A few minutes later, I heard a knocking at the front door and James’ voice outside. I crept down the stairs and turned off the porch light, hoping James would take the hint. It was close to 3:30 by then. We waited and waited, but James was not going anywhere. He continued to knock once a minute for about 20 minutes. I told him we were calling the cops. We probably should have. He called my brother’s cell phone and asked us to send Chris out so they could make up. We weren’t buying it. He called back a few minutes later and I grabbed the phone. “Hey, cuz, can I get that ride now?”
“James, I offered you a ride home several times and you refused. Like I said, we’re done.” And I hung up.
He tried to call again, but my brother ignored it. Finally he left.
The next morning, Chris and my brother had several text messages from James. The first couple were angry, but the next ones were sent during that remorseful “what-did-I-get-into-last-night” period of the hangover.
James and Chris are still friends, at least online, but Lauren didn’t like what she saw that night. She and Chris are no longer speaking.
Next up: A couple co-workers and a couple old friends talk about social media!
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