There was a moment last night when I was in the kitchen bent over, and my friend Patrick was scrubbing my butt with seltzer, while my other friend Dani was holding ice to it. I had sat on gum, the sticky white residue smeared all over the seat of my black jeans. I was freaking out, and my always faithful friends tried to pacify me. As the gum dried, I picked at it throughout the rest of the night.
It's funny how close you become to people in times of need, desperation, heat. While the two who were helping to erase the remnants of Orbit product are two of my closest friends already, it is not until I faced the threat of ruining perfectly good, albeit already bleach-stained, black jeans when I truly realized the extent of our intimacy. Transcending personal boundaries, dispelling human dignity, and neglecting all norms of society, my friends and I treaded upon the threshold of nature, briefly touching the crude aspects of humanity. We were held back by nothing, except the new ice maker.
I guess we're BFFs or BFFLs or something, all because of some uncouth stranger who disposes of their gum in public places instead of the garbage can.
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