As the old saying goes, there’s only so many times you can dip your toe in the water before you’ve got to take the plunge. And so, with that, I’m moving in with my girlfriend.
Are you ready for that?
Sure. If I could live with 3 creeps I met off Craigslist for two and a half years then, yeah, I think I can cope with living alongside the fish I’ve elected out of the sea.
It’s a big change. Do you think you can handle it?
If you mean can I adjust to not throwing my clothes on the floor when I’m done wearing them, I don’t know. But I do know that a quick Google search for extra large hampers was relatively fruitful and has me thinking a solution could be on the horizon. As for overall hygiene, every bear has to come out of hibernation at some point, right? I think I’m ready to clean up my apartment, if not my act.
Yeah, but like, she’s always going to be there. Aren’t you worried you won’t have any space?
It’s New York. Who has space? If I wanted space I’d move to Mercury. Or Boering Hill. Space is a luxury I can’t afford. Especially since I got to buy a couch.
But what if it doesn’t work out? Won’t it be a bitch to break up?
Well, when is it not a bitch to break up? And isn’t it better to know if it can work out now, before I’m old and decrepit and thirty and no one could even consider loving me. Plus, we’re not breaking up any time soon. I’ve got a weak stomach. And I don’t think I can manage holding in my farts every morning for some new girl I’m trying to impress. I’ve already trained one girl and acclimated her to my morning stench; I don’t have the stomach to restart the whole cultivation process. Also, if you’re worrying about a potential break-up when moving in with someone, save yourself the security deposit. It’s probably not a good idea.
So, you’re pretty much done being cool, huh? Like, that’s it for you and fun, right?
Possibly. It is possible that by moving in with my girlfriend I will now be not awesome. But that is a risk I must take. Giving up my bodaciousness to be able to afford a one bedroom in Manhattan. And as for fun, yeah, that’s clearly a thing of the past. I’m officially off the bottle. I’m deleting any dealer’s name I may have in my phone. Sorry Manny. Fun is for people that live with roommates, not lovers. Fun is, and has always been, a lonely man’s game. So yes, I guess I am sacrificing that.
You make jokes, but it is a big step. You can’t deny that.
No, I can’t deny that. It is a big step. More of a stride even. Or a leap. Or a full-speed run-up to a horizontal bar positioned high in the sky with a pole in one hand that I plant into the ground and fling myself out into the great abyss of adulthood. But you know what? Fuck it; I’m ready to take that plunge.
