My Friend Money

Money is a valuable part of my life and I intend to illuminate the major reasons why. But don't be so quick to judge, there's more here than meets the eye.

Of the countless humans I have encountered, all come with a certain degree of deficiency. Nobody's perfect. I am aware of this, and here I choose not to dwell on the things they could improve upon, but rather on the things they have taught me to improve about myself. So while many of my friends are not without their own flaws, part of our friendship is founded on the acceptance of such limitations. The best part, the most rewarding, is simultaneously observing each other learn, discover and sometimes even surprise ourselves with abilities and actions we never knew existed. My closest friends have one thing in common: they refuse to settle for mediocrity. Each in their own unique way, is a winner. I expect nothing less of them.

My friend Money slides to the farthest end of the scale to the point where he's almost falling off. He does not request the best life has to offer. He demands it with a saucy attitude; animated and precise. He functions by a code of his own, often indecipherable even to those who know him best. He can't be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with. Some men just want to watch the world burn. Luckily, Money isn't the Joker. He's just misjudged for his boundless social deformation. He's a misunderstood genius.

If you showed him an apple and an orange and told him to pick just one, he would ask you pointedly why a banana was not included as a third option. Why a banana? It doesn't matter, Money will now hound you for a fucking banana. He will make you feel like a jerk for not including one in the first place. When you finally offer him a banana, he will immediately select the orange as the obvious and logical choice, just to prove his point. But then he will tell you the orange is delicious with an inflection of genuine sincerity, just to add his own stylistic touch. A byproduct of his eccentric behavior is that he comes off as a real asshole sometimes. I suspect it has something to do with his intrinsic sense of play that follows him around everywhere he goes. If you can't see why making this kind of arbitrary point is his way of having a good time, he enjoys it all the more. My friend Money is razor sharp - you would be wise not to underestimate him. At the very least, don't tell him what to do.

He has chutzpah, moxie, grit, spunk & sass; all the attributes of a glowering charisma that would never cease, even in the face of bitter annihilation. But Money never fails. Oddly enough, he will be the first to tell you he has no natural talent at anything worthwhile. I respectfully disagree however. He takes people as his canvas, and their preconceived notions about EVERYTHING as his paint. His audacious and intransigent demeanor creates hilarious snapshot moments of speechless human reactions. Money is a social artist, if such a term exists. And by this point, if you've ever met him, you should already recognize the signature. People can't get enough.

• At 16 he had the fastest and prettiest car I'd ever seen. We would joy-ride at 200km/h for an extended lunch break. We sauntered back into class like we owned the place. We were total idiots.
• At 17 we smoked cigars and went to comedy clubs. Money would sit in the front row and provoke the comedians so they would lambaste us on purpose. "It's a better bang for my buck", he said slapping his knee with a stupid grin.
• At 18 he once shit his pants by accident. That was maybe my favorite moment of his life. (I will remind you of this until you die). The details, however, will forever remain under lock and key.

I call him Money because he respects it so much better than I do. Once upon a time, very long ago, we had to buy his Old Man some hair gel and found the exact brand in the first salon we entered. Money then insisted we go to the other side of the mall to compare prices from another salon. I asked him why it mattered? I reminded him that it was his Old Man's money, not his. He just looked at me and said, "That's exactly the reason why I'm going to check". The best lessons are learned in practice.

I had a big dirty crush on this new girl in school but I couldn't muster the courage to talk to her. Money broke up with his girlfriend, for two weeks, to date the new girl. He did this strictly to prove a point: any girl can be wooed with the right degree of confidence and assertiveness; to put them on a pedestal becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Or so the theory stands. He dumped her ass to the curb and went right back to his girlfriend. It was seamless. I was left standing with my thumb up my ass wondering how he possessed such magical powers. I've since come to realize that's a shitty thing to do, but whatever, I just chalked it up to him being a talented "asshole". Still, you've got to admire the stones required for that type of move. He called every shot along the way without so much as a whimper of self-doubt. Something like that was just Money stretching his wings. And I myself was not immune to the bitterness caught in his wake.

For trivial reasons not worth stating, he's the only mortal I ever fought. More accurately, he punched me in the face and I told the principal. Teenagers. As a member of Student Council, I rationalized pacifism to keep from being suspended. In all honesty, I just didn't know how to fight. I don't remember much from that day, except for his apology in the office after the tempers had cooled. He told me he loved me and gave me a hug. We've been great friends ever since. We were way ahead of Ari Gold and Vinny Chase, anyway. And in the end, he was suspended and I was not. Alas, those were the good old days of high school when people like him actually got punished. Not anymore.

And this is the strange attractive force Money expels in the presence of everyone he encounters. Like a flamboyant Keyser Soze, he is always prepared to go further than the other guy, grinning like an idiot until the bitter end. When people meet him for the first time, their reaction is always the same: dumbfounded innocence. I can see it on their faces, they don't want to believe a person like this can actually exist. They deny it at first, but in the end, everyone comes back to Money. High-five.

Part of our friendship involves the gap between us. It's a mutual appreciation of how the other side works. And even when we agree on the same outcome, the paths taken are often diametrically opposed. I argue for the journey, and he, sometimes more for the destination. So while his material success is a victory, and my freedom of shit is mine, we both get to see what our different path may have been. That is my favorite part.

They say, a best friend is someone who gives you the freedom to be exactly the person who you are. Money encourages it. But the reality is, a best friend teaches you their strengths when you are deficient. Part of becoming your true self is embracing the parts of your character donated to you by your friends. That's the other side of the deal. Money's got a, "well, fuck you too", attitude that lets him get away with absolute bloody murder. I was not born with the same congenital disposition so he has taught me the trade, to some degree.

Most recently, Money was informed by his now ex-boss that he could expect to make 150K a year if he stayed the course. Money however, in his frank and brutally honest way, quietly confided that he would be happy if that figure were doubled. Anything less was unacceptable. No apologies. It's just not the kind of thing you say at that particular moment. Or is it? He now works for himself and is thriving. He's setting records. The kid is a worker.

Case in point: A rebel who breaks the rules by following them to a T. An artist who paints faces of incomprehension and awe. A confident man who knows how to live. All in the same dude.

When I first met him, he introduced me to a world of sexy cars, fast women, golf and Cuban cigars. He was like a country club member at 15. Actually, I think he did belong to one by that point. But those became emblematic of his deeper value in the years to follow: pride of ownership, confidence, good sportsmanship, and a reverence for the finer things in life. And above all, his shining most glorious trait, unsurpassed by all the rest, Money is the most loyal sonofabitch out there. He grew up to become the man you count on.

Actual Quote: "Dude, you know I'd take a bullet." Me: "Prove it."

I keep asking him who's trying to kill me? But if I were ever in real trouble, if the rules were somehow gone, if the referee wasn't looking and it was down to you or the other guy, pray you have a friend like Money on your side; he'll make all the difference in the world. So thanks, Money. You're alright.

In conclusion, who needs dollars & cents when you got a friend like Money? Not this guy.

Thanks for reading. D.