expostulate

 expostulate

\ ik-SPOS-chuh-leyt \  , verb;

1.To reason earnestly with someone against something that person intends to do or has done.

 

People seem to posses a wealth of bad ideas. Sure, there are some good eggs out there, poking at mice looking for the cure for cancer or coming up with cures for diseases they haven't invented yet, but on the whole the average schlub has about 50 really bad ideas a day.  

 

The good news is they don't have the motivation to follow through on them. The bad news is once a person gets a bad idea it seems like there is no dissuading him from action surely resulting in irreparable harm to the environment or the ego. 

 

For example, I had a friend who wasn't having a very good turn with the ladies. It seemed as though being lucky in love was not written in his stars. I tried cheering him up with a bit of gambling and alcohol, but my tactics backfired. He was up $1500 after 3 hours and well on his way to ending the day gripping the sheets and trying not to fly off the bed. This kind of run gives a man a false sense of confidence. Having lost all my money myself, I sat next to him like the loyal friend I am and nursed a few of the free drinks the girls in the kind of skirts I like were bringing around for free. 

 

After splitting Aces and hitting Blackjack on both my friend slapped me on the back and gave me that grin that precedes regrettable action. 

 

"You know what? I didn't need that girl anyway. Look all around us! There are plenty of fish in the sea, and I'm a shark today. You showed me that. In fact, the next beautiful girl I see I'm going to walk right up and say 'Look here, woman! I'm taking you out to dinner. And not next week either. I don't want to wait for any more phone calls. I'm taking you right now.'" 

 

Well I thought this was a fine idea, but when he picked the 6 foot Russian I choked on my Michelob. 

 

"Not her, chap." I expostulated. "You're a strapping fellow but you're all of five and a half feet. She'll eat you alive." 

 

"Pah!" He chortled, kicking out his chair and steadying himself against the table. "That woman is surely in love, she just don't know it yet because I haven't given her the opportunity."  

 

"It's true. You were voted to have the best personality in high school. But 100 yards of personality won't make up for the 6 inch stilettos that woman is wearing. I'm begging you, man. Lower your standards. Both literally and metaphorically." 

 

It was too late. He was already halfway across the room, tottering and pushing against the wall as though he were walking on the moon. He would give a good push with his arm, drift about 10 feet in one direction, only to come crashing back into it moments later. I watched him until he made his approach, then my empathy kicked in and I had to bury my face in my arms, not able to watch the spectacle. I couldn't hear what words were exchanged, but a few minutes later when I worked up the bravery to take a peek I saw him strolling out the door, steadying himself on the girls arm. 

 

Nearly 2 years later they were married. Their wedding pictures look ridiculous. Now they are expecting their first baby, and the poor guy hardly has any time to come drink and gamble with me. The poor guy. I really thought he was going to be able to pull it together.