Chapter 17: Irony Boundaries.

I burst into Jon's sloppy studio, where he sat cross-legged on the floor, playing a melody on his guitar that sounded vaguely like the refrain in "Angel eyes."

He looked up at me, his expression a blend of annoyance and bemusement. "What's wrong *now*?" he said.

I resent his use of the word *now*, implying that I'm always in a crisis. I couldn't help what had happened to me. So I hurled myself to the floor, and started narrating the whole story, sparing no detail.

Still, nothing from Jon, no outrage from my new beau. Or at least shock. Well, I kept going with the story, with a little exaggeration, yet it still didn't whip him into the same frenzy state that I'm in.

Jon ran his hand exhaustively through his hair. "How can you be mad when we did the same thing? Don't we want our friends to be as happy as we are?" he fired at me.

That's beside the point, because it's not the same thing.

"Hell no. We don't want them to be happy!" I screamed at him.

Jon took his guitar, started playin