“Do you know who Daunte Culpepper is?” I asked.

I’m trying do a super-secret hide-the-phone move while I’m driving, because I forgot my wireless ear-thingy. It’s illegal to drive and talk in DC without the wireless ear-thingy. As a result, I look like I’m trying to dodge bullets in the front seat of my own car.

“Yeah, he plays for…Minnesota, right?” she said.

The Great and Powerful Best Friend knows everything about football. I knew she could support me here.

“Well, my first-grade boyfriend played second-string quarterback to him in college,” I said. “You know what that means? It means I pretty much dated a first-string division one quarterback. Because if you play second-string to a dude who was drafted into the NFL, that means you were really first string in real-people terms.”

“Well, yes,” she said. “Yes it does.”

“I’m glad we can agree on this. (Dodge imaginary bullet with cell phone as police car drives by) Plus, it was a totally for serious relationship. We were together for two years. Kindergarten and first grade. He even stole costume jewelry out of his mom’s jewelry box to give me. That how for serious it was.”

“Well, he was willing to steal for you. From his own mother.”

“This is what I’m saying,” I said. “I was on the road to being his hot cheerleader girlfriend-turned-wife. We never would have broken up, you know.”

“No, absolutely not,” she said.

You know that one song by Train? The one that goes ”…something something homefried deepfried chicken, you’re best friend always stickin’ for you…even when I know you’re wrong..” You know that song? It’s that song that talks about falling for a shooting star and traveling around the Milky Way or some shit. Anways, that’s basically what’s going on here.

“But do you want to know what else?” I asked.

(Bullet dodge)

“Of course.”

“I read this article about him online, and in it, his coach said that he would read Bible verses to the team before games.”

“Ohhhhh,” she said. “They haaaaaated him.”

“Totally. Completely and totally. And when they quoted him in the article, he said God at least twice in every sentence, and it’s not because he was saying Goddamnit.”

(trying to parallel park on the corner of sketchy and ghetto)

“Oh yeah,” she said. “They tooooootally hated him.”

“For serious,” I said. “But you know what? Lately I’ve been dreaming about how perfect everything would have been if we had never moved away from Florida. It’s my perfect idyllic fantasy.”

This is a loaded statement. If we had never moved, she wouldn’t be in my life. That is, arguably, a very hurtful thing for me to say.

“It’s always good to dream,” she said. Always stickin’ up for me, even when she knows I’m wrong.

“I’m working through it with my shrink right now,” I said.

“Lanie,” she said. That’s what she calls me. Lanie. I don’t think she even knows my first name. “Lanie, are you serious? You’ve really been thinking about this?”

“Well, yeah.” I paused. “Doesn’t everybody do that? Fantasize about how it could have been different? I’m just focusing all that energy on him.”

“Lanie,” she said. “Stop.”