Posted by: robinsonwarner | August 18, 2008

The Intervention

The scene is a living room where four guys are sitting around a table.  They are eating chips and salsa while watching a football game.  They are dressed in traditional garb of the mid-twenty year old male: jeans, t-shirts and maybe a baseball hat.  Suddenly, one of the young men turns off the television.  Only one young man protests this decision.


Jason:  Dude, what the hell?  Phelps was about to win his eight medal!  I wanted to see if he got it.


Mark:  He has won seven already, Jason.  I’m not even sure he cares that he’s winning any more medals.  The guy is probably just going to melt them all down and make a giant gold statue in his likeness.


Adam:  I mean we get it, Phelps, you’re a freak of nature.  You can swim like none other.


Tim:  How can he eat 12,000 calories a day and still have four percent body fat?


Jason: Haha, sounds like my junior and senior year of college!  Right?!  High five!


As Jason raises his hand an awkward mist descends over the group of friends.  Mark, Tim and Adam all look at each other nervously.  Mark is the first to break the silence.


Mark:  Actually Jason, that’s why we invited you over.  Your high fives are getting a little out of control.


Jason:  What?  Don’t leave me hangin’ bro…


Tim:  Look man, ever since the Olympics started you’ve just been high fiving more than you ever have before.


Adam:  We’re starting to get worried about you man.  We’re worried that you’ve become addicted to high fives.  And of course the Olympics aren’t helping.


Jason:  I can stop any time I want bro.  Besides, I only do it when I’m watching the Olympics.  Go USA!  Right?!


Mark:  Well that’s the problem, Jason.  We’ve noticed it creeping into other aspects of your life.  When we were grilling at Sarah’s house the other night you high fived her for cooking you a burger and you knocked the plate over.


Tim:  There’s a time and place for everything and we’re just not sure you know when to high five anymore.


Jason:  Fuck you, dude.  Those burgers were going to be bombin’.  She used Montreal Steak seasoning.


Adam:  It’s just seasoning man.  Chill out.

Mark:  We have to tell him.


Adam:  No, dude.  He’s not ready.


Jason:  Tell me what?  I can take it.


Tim:  I’m going to tell him.  Look, Jason.  We didn’t have the heart to tell you after we graduated, but no one high fives anymore.  That shit went out of style a long time ago.


Mark:  Yeah man.  Everyone fist bumps now or gives daps.


Adam:  Yeah man.  Daps are totally in right now and even the hand shake is making a come back.


Jason:  Whatever dude.  Only terrorists bump fists.  And what the hell is “daps”?


Tim:  You know, like black people do.  It’s really cool.


Adam:  It makes us feel like rappers.


Mark:  High fives are like… 90’s style.  We just feel like you’re out of touch with what everyone’s doing.


Jason:  This is just getting ridiculous.  Since when have high fives stopped being cool?!


Tim:  Well, pretty much since middle class white people got a hold of it.  We started beating it to death.  It all began when we were high fiving while playing sports and then we started doing it at sporting events.  And then we started doing it for things that didn’t necessarily warrant a high five.


Mark:  Like for hamburgers.


Jason:  I think I’m starting to get it.  So we can’t high five any more?


Adam:  Oh we can still high five, but we can’t overuse it.  You have to ration it out.  Just like we middle class white people need to be careful about using daps or else that won’t be cool to do tomorrow and we’ll have to find out other cool handshakes that black people have come up with.  We like daps very much, but we’ll only change if we absolutely must.


Adam:  We fear change.


Tim:  Do you get it now, Jason?


Jason:  Definitely.  Okay, so I just have to be more sparing with my high fives.


An awkward silence descends on the room.  They must transition from the intervention to regular guy activities, such as scratching themselves.  Jason finally dares to speak.


Jason:  So can I high five now?


Adam:  God damn it, Jason.




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