Drinking year after year, and beer after beer at the same end of the bar, it's only fitting that Cliffy's best friend Norm be named after, well, "the norm".
November will mark my third year in the same West Village, NYC apartment. Like most New Yorkers happy in their hood (who am I kidding, I can't pull off hood), I too routinely patronize the same local establishments. I've been getting my shirts from the same cleaner, my 3 dollar umbrellas from the same deli and my omelet from the same diner for years now. So much so, that before I can even step foot in the door, the host asks "egg-white-omelet, no potatoes no toast, and an unsweetened iced tea to go?" His tone has a hint of a doubt (as not to completely embarrass me), but we both know he knows the answer. Having a complete stranger memorize and recite your order is uncomfortable enough. But not knowing his name, when he clearly knows yours and your habits like only your mother could, is straight up embarrassing.
I blame this situation (at least for someone with a mild case of "The Larry Davids" it's a situation), on no-minimum-purchase-based bank cards. It used to be that under these same circumstances, with cash as the only means of transacting, neither parties knew more than one another's schedule, or routine if you will. But now that we hand these personalized, name-engraved cards to the "strangers with our diapers, deli-meats and candy", suddenly they have the upper hand, as well as our first, and often embarrassing middle names. So while the receipt machine makes that obnoxious sound, and he so politely asks, "Hey Brian, how's everything?", there's only one thing I'm left with to say, and have been saying for years, "Very good buddy, and you man?"
How after 3 years of this do I ever tell my dear old "host friend" that I don't know the first, middle or last thing about him?
My question is why do people call each other buddy? And B you only call men buddy. why?
Posted by: mimster | October 01, 2006 at 03:24 PM