by Hugo de Mare

did i ever tell you where the phrase 'unfit to live' came from? this is a great one.
 
starts out innocently enough, with me balling a college chick in vegas. suprisingly enough it was a successfully engineered one night stand that i even managed to enjoy. she was one of those young blondes, fun, flirtatious, fit--the kind that television tells you to want. and though i was ultimately unable to meet her urgent moaning request that i not stop, i performed admirably considering how drunk i was. names and phone numbers were exchanged and i left moments later on a plane bound for bangkok.
 
here's the good part.
 
 

we stay in touch because i'm a pussy, and it turns out the poor girl gets cancer. tough break. i offer her my most sincere 'you'll pull through, kid' s and we gradually fall out of communication. that is, until the application process for a car  loan would bring me bumbling hopelessly back into her life.
 
 let me explain.
 
i need to include my current employer's information on the loan application, so i scroll through my mobile phone's contact menu and enter the name and number as it appears on the screen. after handing in the application it occurs to me that i ought to give my boss a holler so she isn't caught off guard by the credit company's call.
 
once again i navigate my phone's menu. phone rings. girl answers. i explain the situation, asking her to reassure the reference checkers that i am indeed both responsible and employed, and i become desperately aware of how confused she sounds and of how strained the conversation feels. i know it's the weekend and she probably doesn't want to be bothered by her assistants, and that i  haven't worked there very long and perhaps i shouldn't have given out her contact info so early in the game, but in the end it seems like a reasonable enough request to me, i mean help a brother out, i kill myself at work for godsake, why would she---oh. right.
 
wrong julie.
 
 way to go, hugo. quick, quick, ask her how the cancer's going. ooh. that was awkward.
 
just tell her the truth, dammit--you want her to think you're such a schmuck that you have to put a one night stand for your reference on a loan application? that you don't have one single friend in the entire world that might be a better bet? just tell her you put the wrong number down! tell her she's got the same name as your boss and you just--
 
so... how have you been otherwise? great. well, nice talking to you, thanks for putting a good word in for me and good luck  with the whole being eaten apart from the inside by a life threatening disease thing. give us a call sometime. bye now.
 
there you have it, my friends---unequivocal confirmation that you are unfit to live.