Midnight (rant)

i.

Nobody walks their dog at midnight.
So quit bullshitting me with fake reasons for waking me up.

ii.

I know you weren't walking your dog at midnight because I saw you walking your dog at 10:30 pm. I didn't even need to look to know it was you, I could identify the drag of your feet from lightyears away. It's interesting that you pride yourself on your speed and yet, when it's not a race, you simply meander through life. You meander along the halls, avoiding any eye contact. You meander down a girl's driveway with flowers, and meander with a different girl to a prom after party. You even meander at night, dragging your speedy feet along the pavement, a dog leash in one hand and your phone in the other.

It was the first time I'd seen you in two months, and I couldn't make out your face. We watched you in silence from across the street, and while I was tempted to laugh loudly and draw your attention to my presence, I realized that I really didn't want to chance you meandering my way. You were there for a moment in a red t-shirt, texting and moseying down your all-too familiar street, and then you and your big, oblivious dog disappeared. The great thing about dogs is their innocence: their ever-presence in, yet disconnection from our lives. Though I greeted your golden retriever affectionately every time I came through your door, I guarantee he hasn't noticed my absence. He wouldn't have given a shit if I didn't know he chased down a deer at midnight. Which he didn't. Because nobody walks their dog at midnight.

iii.

I know you weren't walking your dog at midnight because your car wasn't there when I drove by your house at 11:30. You are literally the most predictable person I know, so allow me to map out your night for you:

At 10:30 pm, your mother told you to walk the dog. You were torn because though you are an iconic mama's boy, you realized that if you were still home at 10:30 on the weekend, you could be labeled 'lame' by one of your 'bro's. Bromance is among my top ten least favorite things in the world, as the ritual get-togethers, hideous nicknames and utter bro-dom of it all detract from any real friendship between the 'bro's and also make relationships outside the brotherhood virtually impossible to maintain. Your unwavering loyalty to your 'bro's remains one of the key factors of the distance between you and me. But you love your 'bro's more than you ever loved me. Even more than you love your mother. So, at 10:30, whilst walking your dog, you texted one of them. You are literally the most predictable person I know, so allow me to illustrate the texts:

You (10:30)- Yo d00d wanna bro?
Bro #1 (10:31)- Yeah d00d sounds sick, wanna meet at the mancave?
You (10:32)- Yeah bro! See you in 10! Should I bring natty ice?
Bro #1 (10:33)- Na man were just playin spedonk
You (10:34)- LOL sweet d00d!

It's sickening, really, how completely accurate this record of your social life is.

At 10:45 pm, you arrived at the man cave (Bro #4's basement) in Nikes and a Polo to take part in some rad bromancing. You are literally the most predictable person I know, so I can imagine every detail of the next few hours of made up games involving ping pong balls, about a million high-fives and an appalling amount of Arnold Palmer Half and Half.

At 3 am, you rolled back into your driveway and crept silently through the front door, satisfied that your Sunday night had been well spent. You tip-toed up the stairs because although your crazy mother hardly cares about curfew, you didn't want to wake her from her precious mother slumbering. You arrived in your room, where your dog was curled up on your bed. You said a few heinous things in baby talk to your favorite furry friend, kicked off your third favorite pair of sneakers, and collapsed into bed without changing your clothes.

This is an entirely accurate account of how you spent your night, which I know because it's how you've spent every night for the past four years, and I doubt college will at all change you. The only detail I'm not sure of is what made you decide to text me at midnight to let me know that your dog just chased down a deer. Which he didn't. Because nobody walks their dog at midnight.

iv.

While we're at it, not only does nobody walk their dog at midnight, but if they do, no one feels the need to let me know about it. So please, avoid this impulse. These last precious days of beer pong and matching 'bro' bathing suits are to be cherished, so enjoy the rest of your summer, and-

fuck, just let me sleep in peace.