HUMOR
The AssholesLOS ANGELES 31 May 2009 |
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It was the Saturday night before Halloween, and a friend’s band was playing at a party at a gallery not far from my apartment in Echo Park. I was in a bad mood, though I don’t remember why, since this happened a couple of years ago. Then, too, I’m frequently in a bad mood, which I consider a natural byproduct of being a writer.
Anyway, I drove over to this party and parked a few blocks away, about to head inside when I ran into my buddy Pete on the sidewalk. Pete’s one of The Assholes, as this particular group of my friends sometimes refer to themselves. I’ve always maintained that I’m not really an asshole (despite being one of The Assholes), but I can certainly act like an asshole on occasion, and this night was one of them.
Pete was on his way to our friend Wade’s car to have a beer. The Assholes always have a cooler of beer on hand. Wade was still inside the gallery, and I sat and drank in his car with Pete. Then Wade and his roommate Bill showed up. It was horrible inside the gallery, they said. It was too hot, too loud, and filled with teenagers dressed in ridiculous costumes. I asked if [unbelievably offensive nickname of disliked acquaintance] was there. Yes, [unbelievably offensive nickname of disliked acquaintance] was there, Wade said, and wearing a ridiculous costume.
“My dad would be so proud of me,” he continued. “I’m having a beer with the guys instead of hanging out at some party where everybody looks like a [unbelievably offensive slur].” Pete, who’s a regular ladykiller, was getting constant calls and texts from a prospective girlfriend who wanted him to meet her at a party in Hollywood.
“She’s a [yet another unbelievably offensive slur],” he told me. “Have you ever had sex with a [unbelievably offensive slur repeated]?”
“Yeah, but she was only partly a [same unbelievably offensive slur].”
“That doesn’t count.”
He wanted to go to the party, but Wade wanted to go home. Pete ran back to the gallery to say good night to friends. While he was gone, Wade took off, leaving Bill with me. Pete returned and told me the party was in the Hollywood Hills near the Sunset Strip.
“Oh, man,” I said. “I don’t want to go there. It’s Saturday night before Halloween! The traffic’s going to be murder!”
“It’s going to be great,” Pete said. “Come on, let’s go. I’m going to make out with some [unbelievably offensive slur] and you guys can [unbelievably offensive compound verb] her while I’m doing it.”
He and Bill got in my car, and I started it and turned down a nearby street, thinking I was taking a shortcut, only to find that the street was blocked with construction equipment and signs that pretty much said not to drive there.
“Keep driving,” Bill instructed from the backseat.
There was practically no room to squeeze through, but somehow I did, upending a few of the “don’t drive here” signs in the process. A couple was walking toward us, the girl in a weird-ass costume, and she appeared to panic when she saw my car, pulling closer to her boyfriend and staring at us with bugged-out eyes as we zoomed past.
“What a [unbelievably offensive slur]!” said Pete.
“That [another unbelievably offensive slur]!” concurred Bill.
I couldn’t help it; all this anger, at everyone and everything for no reason at all, had me in stitches. It always does when I’m hanging with The Assholes. Pete’s prospective girlfriend kept calling from the Hollywood party to ask where he was. She gave him directions. Then, when we found the party street, which was very narrow, there was a traffic jam, with some people trying to back up and others trying to drive forward, nobody moving till someone moved first. We were stuck in the middle of this mess, and a woman in the car in front of us beeped her horn and waved her arms frantically as if to say “You’re blocking me!”
“You’re blocking me!” I yelled; Pete adding, “You [unbelievably offensive slur]!”
It was only because of my deft driving that the traffic jam untangled. We parked and walked up the hill to the party. There were security guards at the door, but we easily talked our way past them. The place was packed with affluent assholes in costumes: maids, cops, pirates, astronauts. A DJ was spinning in the living room, but first we walked down some stairs to the pool behind the house and hung out there for a while. Pete immediately ran into some asshole he knew, and as they stood there talking, Bill kept whispering something to me. I couldn’t make out what he was saying. Finally I realized it was about Pete’s asshole friend; that Bill was asking if he should push him into the pool, since he was standing right beside it. I wanted to say yes, but I shook my head no. Then we went upstairs, and Pete found his prospective girlfriend in the kitchen. She was on drugs, it turned out — Bill thought it was ecstasy, but she didn’t look like she was on ecstasy to me. She and Pete started talking, and I figured they wanted to be alone, so I walked outside to the balcony. Bill came with me. As we stood there, staring down at the pool, Bill picked up a golf club, which was lying on the balcony for no good reason, and dared me to throw it over the railing and into the pool.
I did. We watched as it hit the pool with a slight splash, floating there. Nobody by the pool seemed to notice. There was another golf club, which Bill suggested I throw also. I did. Again, nobody seemed to notice. Now I got more ambitious, seeing a huge, lit-up jack-o’-lantern on a nearby table.
“Let’s throw that,” I said.
Bill loved that idea. I picked up the jack-o’-lantern and hurled it over the railing. I didn’t see it go in, but I heard it. Everybody did. There was a very loud splash and a few screams, which came, I assumed, from people who’d been standing by the pool and were, if not exactly drenched, then a little more wet than they’d been previously. Bill and I quickly exited the balcony.
Pete was still in the kitchen, talking to the girl on drugs.
“Hey, Iron,” he said, referring to me by one of my many nicknames. “I’m hungry. Is there anything to eat?”
Bill and I raided the refrigerator. There wasn’t much on hand.
“Who owns this place?” I asked Pete.
“Oh, some [unbelievably offensive slur].”
Eventually Bill and I managed to find some frozen chili, a jar of dip, a bag of pretzels, and a couple of frozen veggie burgers. Bill put the veggie burgers in the toaster oven, and I heated up the frozen chili in the microwave; but Pete, whose diet is determined entirely by mood, refused it all. Bill and I slathered the pretzels in the dip and ate them, as well as the veggie burgers. We both declined the chili. We were bored out of our minds.
“Man,” Bill said, “I am going to remember that jack-o’-lantern hitting that pool for the rest of my life! That was priceless!”
He suggested that we search the premises for more pumpkins. We found a bunch outside. They weren’t carved like the first ones. The security guards were lingering nearby, so it took a while before we could move the first of the pumpkins back to the balcony, but another asshole took it away from me as soon as I got there and threw it himself, missing the pool by a good twenty feet. Then Bill and I went for another pumpkin, but just as we got back to the balcony, we were approached by still another asshole who seemed to know the house’s owner, as well as what we were planning to do. It was okay if we threw the pumpkin, he said, but don’t throw it in the pool, and especially don’t throw it on the deck.
“Then what’s the fucking point of throwing it?” I wanted to ask; but I didn’t. Then a female asshole costumed like nothing I recognized took the pumpkin away and threw it herself. It was another bad throw, meaning there was no loud splash and no screams afterwards. Pete walked up alone and said he wanted to leave.
“Wait,” I said. I ran out and smuggled the last pumpkin inside.
“Do you want to make a really big mess?” I asked Bill.
“Yes!” he said, with a look of childlike glee.
I threw the pumpkin directly onto the deck. Pulp and seeds sprayed everywhere. We could now leave in triumph. We walked back down the hill, where Pete noticed a couple of girls sleeping in a car. He tapped on the window, trying to wake them, saying, “Want to hang out?” They didn’t, understandably. I dropped Bill off, and Pete decided he was hungry, since, again, he’d declined to eat earlier. He directed me to a Del Taco not far from his apartment. There were too many cars lined up at the drive-thru, so we went inside, but it was crowded there as well. A middle-aged woman dressed like a chicken was standing behind us in line. Other patrons were similarly attired in ridiculous costumes.
“I dare you to say [the most offensive word known to mankind] when you place the order,” Pete said to me.
Well, I can never decline a dare. I got to the front of the line and turned to Pete.
“What do you want to eat, [the most offensive word known to mankind]?” I said to him, loud enough for the guy behind the counter to hear.
“I’ll take a macho taco and a [the most offensive word known to mankind] burrito,” he said, inserting the word so skillfully that I wasn’t sure if the guy behind the counter had heard him.
“Is that all?” he said, straight-faced, not missing a beat.
“Yeah. And throw in some [the most offensive word known to mankind] sauce.”
I was sure he’d understood that time. He gave us a look as if to say, “What a couple of assholes.”
“He’s probably going to spit in our food,” I said to Pete.
“No, he’s not the one preparing it. But he probably would if he were.”
“You worked it in perfectly.”
“I’ve done it before.”
Then I noticed that the woman dressed like a chicken was giving us a scathing look, and with that, I really felt like an asshole.
On the other hand, she was an asshole herself. I mean, who the hell dresses like a chicken, on Halloween or any other occasion?
Sadly, these days I don’t see much of The Assholes.
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Original comment thread:
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore’s Mom)
2009-05-31 18:39:29
Damn, Duke.
You were assholes.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-05-31 18:42:34
I know. I’m not usually like that, though. Really. I blame pernicious influences.
Comment by Rich Ferguson
2009-06-01 05:26:10
Okay, under these circumstances I’ll call you an Asshole. But otherwise, you’re okay in my book.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-06-01 05:29:48
As I’ve said before, I’d like to live in your book, which I promise not to stain with pumpkin.
Comment by Loop
2009-06-01 06:04:21
There’s nothing funnier than barely suppressed rage. I say, more A-holes.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-06-01 06:12:24
Thanks, Lisa. Believe me, they’re going strong and sticking to their A-hole ways.
Comment by Heather Whitcomb
2009-06-01 06:28:06
Ok… so that definitely puts you in the asshole category, but I still love you! Sounds like lots of fun in CA. I need to come and visit!
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-06-01 06:31:33
Yes, you do.
Comment by Zoe
2009-06-01 06:50:57
This sounds like a few nights I used to have with my guy friends back home. I say bring on the Assholes! They are obviously more fun than mundane society….
Great post D.R…..
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-06-01 08:17:24
Thanks much. I have to admit, to my embarrassment, that I laughed hysterically as I was putting it together. It reminds me of something Flannery O’Connor once said about a reading she gave of “A Good Man is Hard to Find” and cracking up constantly as she did it: “I disgraced myself thoroughly,” or so I think it was worded.
All of The Assholes are truly good guys. They’re also very talented. Pete’s one of the most charismatic frontmen I’ve ever seen, and I don’t say that because he’s a friend, but I do say it bearing in mind the countless (!) shows I’ve attended, including those by much-hyped bands signed to major labels, most with lackluster frontpersons. Wade has, hands down, the best singing voice of anyone I personally know, though he much prefers the studio to performing live; and Bill, while still in his twenties (he’s barely out of them), had and has scores of people working under him in his position at — what it is? I’m momentarily drawing a blank. Anyway, they’re not as fucked up as this account may make them seem, and there are others in the same circle who are equally, if not more so, talented. They’re also, to a man, bright, though most are too lazy to fully develop it.
But they’re assholes, right? And, as I guess I just proved, so can I be. At times, anyway.
Comment by Zoe
2009-06-01 10:27:31
I think I would have laughed if I had a story this good to tell….its funny as hell! I especially liked the part about you guys smashing the pumpkins. Its something I’ve always wanted to do….but never had the chance to…However, I got smashed once and tripped over a bunch of pumpkins…..
I believe that they truly are good guys…..most assholes really are once you get to know them, or have been around them long enough. And talented. I also have to agree with Megan: there is a correlation between hot guys and assholes.
I don’t think you’re an asshole. but maybe you are. I don’t know you personally.
One of these days I’m going to make it out to L.A….maybe on the off chance I’ll get to see some assholes in action.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-06-01 10:42:50
Oh, the assholes I know would love to show themselves off in action. For sure. And Asshole #1 in particular is a case study in Megan’s spot-on musing.
He and I have may later have words about this. I hope not. I’m only just coming down from a bloodbath regarding another friend who felt slighted by a remark I made on TNB. Egad.
Comment by Zoe
2009-06-01 10:52:22
I hope he doesn’t have a problem with it. Mostly because it was funny, and if you can’t laugh at yourself, you have no business laughing at other people.
This is also why I use a different name when I post in my blog. It keeps me out of A LOT of trouble.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-06-01 10:56:30
Well, I’m only just emerging from A LOT of trouble.
But I think it’ll be okay in #1’s case. He barely reads anything, ’cause he’s lazy as fuck.
Comment by Zoe
2009-06-01 11:43:37
haha…now it just looks like you’re baiting him.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-06-02 06:12:06
Good point. I somehow overlooked this comment yesterday, but, yeah, I probably am baiting him.
In addition to being lazy, he’s also vain, so once he hears that this thing is up — and he surely will — he’ll no doubt check it out. I just don’t know that he’ll go to the trouble of actually reading it. No, he’ll likely just glance at the pictures of himself to see how they look in a different setting.
Comment by Zoe |
2009-06-02 10:24:33
Then I hope he takes the bait, but that it doesn’t get you into too much trouble. A little trouble is always fun though…
The fact that you think he’ll just look at his pictures cracked me up! I know guys like that….they’ll look at the pictures to see if you used the good ones, but won’t actually read anything you wrote. Makes me want to call my friends back home…
I’m curious to know what the “most offensive word known to mankind” is, as well as the “unbelievably offensive slur”. I mean, I have some words of my own that I use….but really, what are yours?
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-06-03 19:05:29
Lots of “bombs.” I’m going to leave it at that. Refer to my reply to Jessica for clarification, if you’re at all curious.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-06-03 19:19:24
Oh, and I’m joking about Pete just wanting to check out the photos of himself. He’s seen them before.
Just for the hell of it, here’s a clip made by Pete himself, featuring (of course) himself, with a piece of music he (of course) composed. Just a simple thing; I’m sure he wouldn’t claim much for it. The name of the song is inspired by a friend who’d recently died: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e8NwjIEsdeA&feature=channel_page
And here’s a clip of a two-man band that Wade’s put together with our friend (a non-Asshole) Dave. Wade wrote the song and sings it. However, here his voice isn’t being heard to full advantage:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4aAts8bE1fQ
Comment by Megan
2009-06-01 07:52:09
Nice bracket device. This post made me think about the high correlation between being a total asshole and being above-average attractive.
Last night I threw rocks at what I think was a feral possum. It was climbing a tree, all crazy-like, too close to my balcony. Does that make me an asshole?
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-06-01 08:46:20
Hell, no. Bitch was too close to your balcony! Bring them rocks on! And if that (assumed) possum could have picked up a rock and hurled it in your direction, rest assured it would have. Especially being crazy-like and all.
Comment by motherfuckinjoanne
2009-06-01 11:29:27
HA! Though i found this amusing, the assholes should calm it down with the hate…I hear it makes your dick shrink over time…
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-06-01 11:34:28
Um, MFJ, don’t make me get too personal here.
Comment by wade
2009-06-01 12:14:54
i wish i didn’t go home. my fav. part was when you saw the road was closed and bill said “keep going” or whatever. man, i miss gettin a few beers in that guy. if he wasn’t too busy engineering clean rooms for boeing this shit would happen more often. i’m glad you wrote this, it’s nice to remember good times. uh, as the dynamic of “the asssholes” has changed, it wouldn’t take anything more than us in the same room to be doing this stuff again.
by the way, look up this guy “treeman”. watched a show on him last night. this indonesian fella with tree branch warts all over himself. so crazy man. i almost threw up watching it but i forced myself to be a man and get through it in preparation for the potential that one day i’ll be forced to do some shit that really sucks, you know, like put a bandage on a friends leg where his femur came through the skin from a skateboarding wreck. big bloody bone, friend in shock…i can’t throw up then man, can’t be a pussy, gotta step in and tie a t-shirt around that thing, bottom line. anyway, check out treeman.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-06-01 12:33:44
I’ll check it out.
I mean, I’ve been on the other side of the bone-coming-out-of-the-skin thing. What was weird in my case (to me at least) was that broken bones beneath the skin were far more damaging than the broken bones that popped through the skin. Because the ones broken beneath were so fragmented that they were cutting off the blood — and oxygen — supply.
I’m happy that you weighed in.
Bloody hell, man, what would it take to get us all in a room together again? Is it entirely my fault? I can’t begin to tell you how nostalgic I’ve felt over the last couple of days, as I’ve been revising this piece. I remember telling my parents that you guys were the friends I’d been waiting to meet all my life. I never had such good times. Just hanging out on the street and having a beer was the best time ever.
Comment by wade
2009-06-01 13:20:47
agreed. you should come out of that palace you live in a little more often. there’s not a night that passes without at least one beer being drank on a street corner somewhere, except maybe tonight. yeah dude, blood and bones are sick, especially when they are fucking each other up…
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-06-01 22:01:11
No? Not tonight?
I think I’m going to give you a call.
Comment by Reno 2009-06-01 12:36:15
perfect assholes. bravo. i think i’ll keep this one close by and dash back to it when the asshole in me calls. thx, duke.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-06-01 12:41:50
And, in fact, I was thinking about your post about that concerned at least one asshole, albeit of a different sort, as I was working on this one. So it’s especially gratifying that you make the comment you do.
Your thx returned manifold.
Comment by Megan DiLullo
2009-06-01 20:57:32
This is good stuff, Duke. Viva la Assholes!
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-06-01 22:04:54
And viva Megan! Haven’t seen you around for a while. Good to see you again.
Comment by Brin Friesen
2009-06-02 05:47:47
“We could now leave in triumph.”
This was a lot of fun.
I think we need more installments of your adventures.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-06-02 05:56:39
Mishaps is more like it. But glad you found it fun.
Comment by Kimberly M. Wetherell
2009-06-02 06:42:45
I had a ton of fun playing [unbelievably offensive] Mad Libs with this one!
Still scratching my head over what the [most offensive world known to mankind] might be - ’cause I thought that was the [unbelievably offensive slur].
Hm.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-06-02 06:54:46
That’s a fault in the writing. Every slur was a different one, but obviously that doesn’t come through. I suppose I could’ve euphemized, but I kind of stumbled on this other thing with the brackets when I used them to censor the name of [disliked acquaintance], and it made me laugh so hard, I went on using the same device.
Believe me, some really, really awful things were said. I mean, a lot of people would stop talking to me if they heard those words come out of my mouth. But with these guys it’s kind of a punk-rock thing — you know, refusing to go along with the program. It’s also, I suppose, like a bunch of kids who crack each other up by saying “poop.”
Comment by Kimberly M. Wetherell
2009-06-02 08:18:15
Or grown-ups…
“Farty McPoopypants” kills me every time.
Comment by Jessica Anya Blau
2009-06-03 14:53:23
Why don’t you provide a list of the offensive words and then readers can insert them where they wish, deciding for themselves which is the MOST offensive and which is just extremely offensive, etc. Would be fun to see how many people insert the same words in the same places.
Comment by D. R. Haney
2009-06-03 19:20:49
You know, I have to confess that I was hoping people would play this game when I wrote the piece, but I’m not sure it would be fair to the guys if I put those words in their mouths. I mean, I have no problem saying that Pete’s lazy and vain, because I’m just kind of breaking his balls, but when I talked to Wade about the possibility of my posting this thing (since I thought it was only fair that I ask in advance how he felt about it, and how he thought the others would respond as well), he said, “I don’t know, man.” It’s not just me who would look bad, after all, and I’d only just had a war of words with another friend who was miffed over another comment I made in a TNB piece – and over something I saw as petty in the extreme! I wouldn’t want to go through that again.
By the way, this is no way to induce a back-scratching club, but I think, when I can lay my hands on some money, I’m going to buy and read your book. The title is really provocative. Every time I read it, I think of The Last Picture Show. My God, was Cybill Shepherd beautiful in that thing.
Comment by Jessica Anya Blau
2009-06-04 17:58:42
Ah I like that Last Picture Show connection! Yes, she was beautiful. And also in Heartbreak Kid (of course I’m speaking of the original!). You know, she was even beautiful in that show with Bruce Willis where her name was Maddie and there was a secretary named Mrs. Beasley. Can’t remember the name of the show or Bruce’s name in it. A late 80s early 90s show.
I’ll join your back-scratching club. Sounds cozy. I’ve already read the fabulous first chapter of your book on your myspace page!
Comment by D. R. Haney
2009-06-04 21:23:25
“Moonlighting” was the name of the show. And, yes, she looked great in (or is it “on”?) that too.
Funny; a friend of mine–a guy in one of the heaviest bands in L.A., if not THE heaviest band–used to date her daughter. He got on fine with Cybill, but she HATED the guitarist in my friend’s band. She hated him to start with, but things greatly accelerated when he bumped into her at a party and knocked her down to the ground. In fact, Jessica, it was — ha, I just remembered this! — a swimming pool party. So there was a lot of water on the floor, and he slipped and collided with Cybill, who fell and, I think, chipped a tooth, and screamed: “GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE! NOW!”
Sorry to sound all name-droppy and stuff, but this is what happens when you live in L.A, where every third person and his dog is in the movie business.
I am, of course, very flattered that you say what you do about my book, and expect to return the compliment in short order.
Comment by amellini
2009-06-06 10:40:48
I’m an asshole… My roommate is finally sleeping on the couch after vomiting for roughly twenty four hours, and I couldn’t quietly contain my laughter while I read this. My favorite part was the whole exchange at Del Taco. I didn’t realize how loud I was chortling until I woke her up. Oops.
I think the mad lib version is more fun. My [the most offensive word known to mankind] may simply be another’s [unbelievably offensive slur].
Comment by D. R. Haney
2009-06-06 11:11:23
I’m laying low at the moment, because I don’t want to have to write any more responses to any tweets or posts or e-mails or what have you, but I had to address your comment, since you’re the first person who responded to what I assumed was a “dead” piece, and the only one who mentioned how laugh-out-loud funny it is.
I mean, I’m sorry if I’m immature, as I surely am, and I don’t say this because I’m the writer, but I crack up every time I re-read it. I can barely go near the thing, it makes me laugh so hard. I don’t even know how I managed to finish it.
So thanks very much. I can’t help but note that it’s mostly women who’ve responded, and I assumed that women would most take offense. But that wasn’t the case. I guess a lot of guys don’t want to admit in a public way that they advocate such behavior. Chicks are, in the end, much more ballsy.
Hope your roommate soon recovers.