There is this tradition in friendship that is termed “Brunch.” Brunch is code for “let’s buy an expensive meal at 1 p.m. on Sunday, coax each other to drink sugary alcohols, and tell our dirtiest life stories in a public place because not only is it accepted there: it is required.” While this sounds like a wonderland of bliss and biscuits, it quickly becomes a cheerless chore.
You might begin to associate brunch with words like “doldrums”, “trap”, and “that thing that’s churning my insides into an unappealing soup.” So here’s the thing that you didn’t consider: you can skip! Not only can you skip—you can skip and remain friends with the brunchers.
How to rise to the top of your brunch-dodging game:
1. Get Full
The eggs in my refrigerator expire today. Long story egg: if I don’t use them now, I will waste two perfectly good eggs. So I’m going to have a double-egg brunch over at my apartment because I’m not about to waste food. So clean your plates for me today guys, I’ll be there judging in spirit!
2. Get Responsibilities
My goldfish is refusing to eat until I read him ten Dr. Seuss books, with voices, and I have to show him all of the pictures (he knows if I try to skip a page). I’m not great at math, but this is at least a four-hour ordeal. I will not be at brunch, Sam-I-am! I will not eat $40 green eggs and ham!
3. Get Your Chores Done
I am stuck in the laundromat. Not like stuck watching my laundry. I was doing laundry last night because I knew we had brunch plans, but then I fell asleep to the delightful hum and fragrance of the place. No one came to wake me up, and now I’m locked in here until 10 a.m. With my commute from Brooklyn, by the time I roll in, you guys will be too drunk to remember that I was going to come anyway.
4. Get Fit
I’m on a cleanse! Which one? Oh, you know, it’s that one that has almost too many rules to count! I’m over here gnawing on the end of a pencil to keep from losing my mind! Yeah, I don’t really want anyone to see me like this! Thanks for understanding my self-induced plight!
5. Get That Bargain
There is a huge sale at this girly store that is happening for one time only in the window where we said brunch would occur. I would ask you all to come with me, but I got this sale promotion through a guy at work, and he was very clear about keeping this all hush-hush. This is the shopportunity of a lifetime, and I hope you guys will cordially understand my absence.
6. Get Comfortable
I’m in straight-up Snuggie mode. While I personally feel like it’s acceptable to traverse the city in this plush, weather-proof fashion-cloak, I feel that the group may whisper about how “lazy”, “offensive”, and “wow, again?” my apparel is. To spare your emotions and pride, I will remain on my couch where no one can judge me from behind a stack of pancakes that costs as much as my Snuggie.
7. Get Therapy
So here’s the deal: that place where you’re getting brunch? I hate it. Everything about it gives me the willies. I don’t know why I waited until the last possible second to tell you all this because we decided the location as a group. My therapist says I need to start listening to others, rather than bulldozing them with my ferocity. While I’m not here to bulldoze, I am here to stand firm in my opposition to that hell-bucket of a place you will all patronize in my absence. Godspeed, people I hold dear. Godspeed.
8. Get Shady
It’s too sunny outside. You guys know that I can only come to brunch if it’s mildly drizzling or heavily snowing. I hate that I have to remind you time and again about this because I am pretty sensitive about it.
9. Get Your Act Together
I would rather eat Raisin Bran (or cardboard flakes and bug carcasses, as I see it) than bacon-stuffed egg patties today. I’m going through some stuff. Being alone and eating tasteless, semi-healthy food is really helping me process that.
10. Get Honest
I really cannot be at the same brunch as Jennifer. Everyone knows it but her, and I’m not going to craft some elaborate excuse. Just please cover for me. I’ll try to make it when she’s in LA next month.