Pregnancy sucks. Well, at least it’s when happens with a girl you hardly knew except for the 30 minutes you spent with her on the floor of your best friend’s living room.
What was Jeremy thinking? Having sex with a friend-of-a-friend who was too drunk to drive home from a party – without protection? While his girlfriend (fiancée) was away for just the weekend? Double fail.
He didn’t even remember her name entirely. Was it Sarah or Stacy or Jennifer? When he called me the day after the party, he sounded like a conquering champion. “Dude, do you remember that hot brunette with the pony tail?” “Yeah,” I replied. “Well, I totally scored with her last night!”
I was unimpressed since I was his fiancé’s good friend. “I know what you’re thinking, but did you see the hooters on her?”
And so the conversation went – how they both pulled it off right there on the floor when everyone was drunk off their keister!
Six weeks later it’s a different story.
Kristina (that was her name) was pregnant and she thought it was his. She’s not too sure, because she had sex with someone else earlier in the day. A winner I thought.
Anyway, Kristina had struggled briefly with the decision to have an abortion, but she opted to keep the baby.
Jeremy, if it was his kid, would be in it for the long haul.
10 months later.
It turns out that the kid was his. The unknown woman not only wanted him to take care of his little boy, but she wanted some support – yup, hard cash. Jeremy’s fiancé had left, his circle of friends shrank, and his family was upset.
It was ultimately a nightmare for him. As for me, I it was like I was watching a real life “Hangover” movie unfold before my eyes. It was, on some level, pathetic entertainment that I was forced to watch.
And yet, it’s not a lone story. This scene is relived over and over again in America. Sometimes, it works, but mostly it doesn’t. In fact, in the United States 50% percent of first marriages end in divorce; Think that’s bad it gets worse for second marriages with a 67% divorce rate; and whopping 74% of third marriages wind up in the trash heap - this according to the Forest Institute of Professional Psychology.
A recent graduate with an MBA, I think that Jeremy still has a promising future. I just think that for the next 18-20 years, his life’s energy will be diverted to a family he is forced to support, and be in a rocky, loveless relationship.
It happens every day – everywhere. It’s the formula for the modern dating relationship these days. Meet up. Hook up. Pray you don’t have an STD or you knocked up the girl you met.
And to think about Jeremy, I also have to think about his new son. What kind of live will he have? What kind of seed did Jeremy really plant?
I’m not into being judgmental. I just hate to see three people needlessly suffer for 30 minutes on a dirty floor. Blame isn’t even in the equation anymore. The reality and the potential of all three of these lives have been compromised.
And the only thing, I can think of, is that this stuff is more fun to watch in the movies.