The coffee is flowing and the music is streaming. This weekend is what I like to call an independent weekend. What is an independent weekend? An independent weekend is a weekend when my single, extroverted self has zero interaction with humans for more than 12 hours. When I hit 24 hours, I start talking to the squirrels and to myself. It's an extrovert struggle. One of my favorite independent weekend activities is conversing with my funniest, hottest, smartest, most sarcastic guy friend who decided to move to China to casually brush up on his Mandarin. His name is Kyle Lemaire Doty. If you know me, then you have heard me talk about him. Our conversations are always a mix of him talking, me trying to pipe in, and him shutting me down saying, "Are you done? It's still my turn." Well, ladies and the occasional gentleman who read my rambles, I give you some of our infamous conversations. Happy Saturday!
Conversation 1
Me: Kyle, guys are such an enigma. Could you ever imagine "he who shall not be named" saying something nice like that?
Kyle: Taylor, he doesn't have the emotion or the vocabulary to read a Burger King menu. So, no.
Conversation 2
Me: Kyle, call me. I need you. I'm bawling.
*phone rings*
Kyle: Omg, are you ok? What's going on.
Me: Hellllerrr! I'm fine. I just wanted to test you to see how fast you would call.
Kyle: Ok, girl who cried wolf.
Me: You do it all the time when you ask me if I'm sitting down then proceed to sing that awful Miley song.
Kyle: Because I am a funny gay man, Taylor, and you are a non-funny drag queen.
Conversation 3:
Kyle: What are you doing?
Me: Oh, you know, just finished Pure Barre.
Kyle: You pulled out a crow bar?
Me: No, Kyle, Pure Barre. I said PURE BARRE!
Kyle: I don't understand why you have a crow bar right now!
Conversation 4
Me: Kyle, please don't take a plane anywhere while you are in China. Either walk, bike, or take the train. If you go down on a plane, I will never forgive you.
Kyle: I'm getting over my irrational fear of flying now. Mainly because I finally realized I don't have to do anything when I fly. I just walk in, sit down, fart in a blanket, and read US Weekly. They aren't going to say over the intercom, "Can the fat gay man in row 30 seat B please fly the plane now."
Conversation 5
Kyle: I was on my daily 12 mile hike, listening to Love me Like you Do, and crying. I was just thinking about how I left Phoebe 2 years ago and now she is gone. *Phoebe is Kyle's former cat.*