The War Of The Egos

I Fight Because I Can.

The other night I was visiting a friend who likes to host small late-night gatherings. That night it was just three of us. We started out as we often do, with discussions of the day's remarkable events, and move on to other topics of interest to us, followed with personal new discoveries a la show-and-tell, and all done in a comfortable environment, listening to choice music and partaking heavily of that which we all enjoy. This time it was nectar of pomegranate (or whatever was on sale at Ralphs).

Now is a good time to interject with a couple of personal observations. First, the host is a fine man with high standards and perhaps because of that, is almost impossible to impress. Nonetheless, we all give it the old college try. I'll call him Mr Ego. 

Second, our third that evening is a man who, in my humble opinion, is in far more desperate need of the group I currently attend than anyone I know, except for She Who Shall Not Be Named. Let's call him Mr Anger.

Back to the story: 

I happened to mention to the group that a television show two of us watch was ending-- the series would be finishing that night. I mentioned it because I had watched a commercial on television earlier that evening which stated the fact. "Series finale tonight!"

Well, my very smart, very egocentric friend said, "I don't think so."

I looked incredulously at him and said, "I heard it on TV... tonight!"

He frowned and said, "Well, my DVR (digital video recorder, or TiVo) has it scheduled to record for tonight, as well as several weeks from now."

I laughed. "So your DVR is right and the commercial I saw TONIGHT is wrong?"

Very seriously he answered, "Why would it record shows if there are NO SHOWS to record? They program these things remotely to record exactly what I ask for!"

Our third friend, who had been listening silently to this conversation, could stand it no more. He shouted, "Why don't you check it out on the TV guide, you idiots?"

I responded, "I don't have to... I'm not contesting the information! I brought it here to begin with!"

Mr Ego yelled, "I have TiVo so I don't HAVE to check the TV guide!"

Mr Anger yelled back, "Why are you so goddamn certain that TiVo is right? Maybe somebody forgot to check the dates over at TiVo town? Could be the TV station forgot to mention the series was ending since they show repeats in the same time slot, a-hole?"

Mr Ego shot back, "Whadda you know? All you watch is ESPN! You wouldn't know a decent TV show if it came up and shook your hand, you big-browed lummox!"

I watched, dumbfounded at how quickly these two engaged in a shouting free-for-all. I went through my anger management notes mentally to see if I could come up with something that would quash this pointless argument. Time out? Doesn't apply. Listening for understanding? Too late for that, I'm afraid. Positive self-talk? Not gonna work.

Then I had an insight. I am a father, after all, and these two were fighting like children. And how do we stop kids from fighting? Say it with me, everybody...

DISTRACTION!

I reached between them for the remote control. It was a dangerous  move, I know-- anything in their field of vision would become a target at this moment. I turned the TV on, found the right channel, and said...

"Look! Boobs!"

The shouting stopped mid-sentence as their eyes were drawn, as if magnetically charged, to the big flat screen in the front of the room. Angry expressions melted and were replaced with sublime awe.

Mr Ego said, "Wow."

Mr Angry said, "Yup!"

I said, "They look friendly..." and I swear, my words trailed off as I was sucked into the vortex of friendly, bouncing, naked boobs. Long moments passed. Finally, one of us sighed and murmured, "I love the TNA network."

Problem solved.