A few weeks ago I kicked off a "series" of posts titled
"Cheers to _____!"
As the second posting under this title, I present to you Bradley Paul Decker.
If ye sippith alcohol this fine February day, do so in honor of this delightful human you see above who today turns an irreverant 24-years-old.
Brad, "Paul P. Paul" (thanks, Kelly) or "Cranky Mickshaw" as, well, only I like to call him, has been one of my best friends since the day I hated him on a high school ski trip to Killington, VT. Unnecessary hatred? You be the judge:
-You've been skiing all weekend and are heading back home that Sunday evening on a fully-packed coach bus. The bus stops at a rest stop and you exit for fresh air, bathroom relief and a good stretch. You get back on the bus and find that this smarmy character has taken your seat. Your attempts at politeness fail in fructification. (Also "you" are actually me, Emilie, who has a hard time accepting the "move your feet, lose your seat" rule, which you think doesn't apply to you...ever.) Disgruntled, you refuse to laugh it off and find the only seat left (indeed, this shifting has caused a domino-effect with regards to bus seating) is in the back with people you don't know/don't really want to get to know. You hate Brad for the rest of the trip/week/month.
Boom! A friendship is born!
During the next 3 years of high school, Brad and I tried "to go out," but I think we both realized we'd rather stay in and make fun of stuff--stuff usually being myself. Upon graduation from HS he kicked me in the already-hurty knee and still refuses to apologize to this day.
In college I missed Brad a lot because there's really noone else like Brad in the world. Or at least at Syracuse. But there are a significant amount of people at Syracuse, so that hyperbole is applicable.
After college we lived far apart--me wherever and him in DC. At first he worked for an angry Indian-American from Texas named Soobash who wore a ten-gallon hat and told him to do unreasonable things. I worked somewhere doing nothing important. Now he works at the Federal Elections Commission telling people to do unreasonable things.
I still work somewhere doing nothing important.
My friendship with Brad has become even stronger as I currently live around the block from him, which allows me access to this character in a pretty much unlimited manner. I frequent his abode in order to converse, drink good beer and watch mindless television. Except for The OC, which is not mindless at all and, in fact, made me cry last episode. As the tears streamed down my face, I asked Brad to get me a tissue. His reply:
"They're over there." He then told me he wouldn't get me tissues unless my tears were "legitimate."
Oops. I hope I'm not painting a negative picture of this wonderful man.
Good stuff about Brad:
-He likes stuff
-Come on, don't make me go on forever
Also he just read the 1260-pager, "The Decine and Fall of the Roman Empire."
Have you done that??? Yeah, I didn't think so.
Cheers to Brad Decker!