“I assure you man, you need to find a woman who’s totally nuts.”

Syd looked questioningly back at his friend of twelve years, Sam. “Nuts?”

“Yeah...I’m talkin’ full-blown bat shit.”

Syd took a swig from the bottle in his hand. He and Sam had known each other since they were a couple of kids with crazy ideas and a penchant for getting into dumb situations. They both seemed to click immediately, once they realized all they had in common. They both had really lame names, which they shortened to more fitting ones. From Samuel and Sydney to Sam and Syd. It was almost like a bad sitcom, or a lousy garage rock band. They both dug great food, dinosaurs, and Arnold Schwarzenegger flicks, which was enough for eight-year-olds to become the most loyal of friends. Nowadays though, various other things had been added to the list, most namely women. They weren’t womanizers, they just loved girls. Trouble was, neither of them were very big in the ladies eyes’.

Syd, being the more important person in this story, had the bad habit of going to his long-time friend for advice in the ways of women, which Sam knew nothing of.

“Why would I want a girl who’s crazy?”

“Because those are the best ones.”

“The crazy ones?”

“Yep.”

Syd tossed his empty soda bottle over the edge of the abandoned, unfinished bridge they were sitting on. As it shattered on the ground below them, he readied himself for Sam’s usually odd logic. “Why are the crazy ones the best?”

“Well, you see, it’s like this: crazy makes for a far more interesting series of dates, and crazy never allows the relationship to get stale with the same old boring shit. Also, if you ever happen to get crazy in bed, she’ll be far more willing to do the kind of stuff really creative perverts only dream about. That, plus they can be pretty damn funny at times. You see, it's the normal ones you have to worry about. A crazy girl will always be crazy, but with a normal chick you have to always be on guard, 'cause you never now when she'll flip her switch on you.”

Syd stretched his arms. It was late, and he was getting tired. “That all sounds good and fun, but how does one obtain Ms. Bat-Shit, oh wise master of the gentler sex?”

Sam frowned at him. “Nobody likes a smart ass, Syd.”

Syd sighed heavily as he said, “Just answer the damn question.”

Sam sighed in return. “Dude, I don’t know. I’ve been told that all you have to do is assert yourself, show some confidence, and they’ll be all up for ya. However, that nonsense is exactly the kind of shit our counselor used to tell us in high school, and I trust nothing a high school counselor speaks of.”

Syd laughed gently, and rose to his feet. “Well, man, it’s been a hell of a discussion, but if I don’t get some sleep, I might have to murder you at work tomorrow”

Sam smiled. “Alright, cool. Have a good night dude.” And with that, Sam jumped to his feet, slamming his feet down onto his trusty skateboard. He sped down the bridge, finally turning at the end towards his house. Syd had actually grown out of his childhood fascination with skateboards as a mode of transportation and proceeded to walk to his apartment. He dropped his head a little as contemplation struck his mind. What the hell was the point? Why bother trying to chase girls when they won’t even look back to see your effort, much the less appreciate it?

Oh well, he thought. He had his friend, he had his health, and he had his freedom. Surely relationships must be a strain on all those things, he reasoned. Syd went through this charade every so often, whenever the problems resurfaced in his mind.

In truth, he wasn’t such a bad guy. He may not be the most drop dead guy in town, but he wasn’t too bad looking. He was tall, pretty smart, and funny. Or at least, he had hit a weird growth spurt, got decent grades, and made Sam laugh every so often. He didn’t dress in Ambercrombie & Fitch, but rather wore a lot of T-shirts emblazoned with either band names or old cartoons he used to watch to accompany his faded jeans with ripped leg bottoms. He didn’t have too much money, but he got by quite well with what he had.

He didn’t want a lot of things at all. Just the love of a lovely woman. Or at least a semi-hot one. Hell, a kinda-cute one would be fine. He just needed someone in his life besides his family and Sam (who was practically family to him).

Syd finally got to his place, but hesitated at the doorway to pet the stray cat that seemed to forever hang around in front of the building. He opened the door and made his way to the elevator, taking off the jacket he wore and folding in over his arm. The elevator slowly zoomed up to his floor, and he dragged himself out of there. The night and its companions was starting to take a toll on him now. Syd fumbled for a bit to get the key in the lock (realizing a strange reference to the time he lost his virginity), and opened his door to reveal the lavish palace he called home.

A modestly nice kitchen with a fridge containing various choices of frozen pizza; a living room with a big comfy couch, a fairly large TV, a collection a videos and DVDs stacked in small piles on the floor nearby, a PlayStation 2 and X-Box, and a coffee table; a bathroom with a standing shower and a copy of Time Magazine resting on the hamper; and a bedroom, with a waterbed, an old lamp, a couple of dressers and a closet full of clothes, and a shelf over the bed of various books.

“Home sweet home...”

Syd licked his lips sleepily and collapsed onto his bed, not even bothering to take off his clothes or hang up his jacket. The rolling waves in the waterbed caused by the impact were really annoying him, but all he could do was mumble before finally falling to sleep.

Syd Bedford was that kind of guy that women love to adore and live to ignore. That guy who never had a girlfriend in his early days of high school, only to foul up with the one he got in his later years. The kind of guy who’ll hold a door open, or pull out a chair, and a do a thousand chivalrous things while ignoring the fact that such a thing barely exists. The dude who wants to give everything to a girl he’ll love, and ask only that she love him in return. Or at least tolerate him.