Christian Neil (christianneil) wrote in dysfunction03,
Christian Neil


No discussion of dysfunctional people in my life would be complete without a mention of this man. He is a man that I considered my best friend for a while, hated his guts for a while, envied, pitied, and then just lost touch with him.

Our paths first crossed in the mid 80s when we played basketball together. I was a starting forward, but never got the ball, and never scored a point. He was the guy that always got the ball, and was probably responsible for over half of the points per game. We lost two games the whole season, went to the championship, and we lost, because our whole strategy was to get him the ball, and he was double covered most of the game.

Our paths crossed again much later, when we were both extras in The Ernest Green Story. We quickly became friends, and hung out together a lot that summer. He was also 21 years old, and I was 18 at the time, so he had some value. The guy also pulled a lot of women, and I figured that he would be able to toss me some sloppy seconds. But he was a lot of fun to hang out with, and my weekends were filled with him. He was getting me into bars, buying booze, and we would have a blast together. He also got me my first job at a hotel, and we would go party with the bellhops after work a lot.

Fast forward a bit. The guy introduces me to various girls that he used to date, and I’d go out with them a few times. Then he would decide that he wanted them back. When I met girls on my own (actually happened a time or two), he would come on to them when I left the room. And when we went out, I was the eternal wingman while he made a huge time investment to pick up strange. But there was not a girl that I dated that he didn’t come on to.

So I decide that I’m going to wash my hands of him…who needs someone like that in his life, anyway? It was a challenge, but I successfully blew him off for a while. Then I ran into someone that he worked with at a bar, and we sat down and had some drinks. He asked me what I really thought about Scott, and I said that I was kind of tired of him trying to fuck every girl in sight. He then told me how unpopular Scott was at work.

It occurred to me that Scott had a very bad sexual addiction, and that he didn’t have any real friends. He needed a friend like me. It was also possible that he envied my education and professional accomplishments, and this was his way of dealing with it.

So I always prepared any new girls that I brought around about his proclivities, and things went by basically smoothly…we continued to do things for a while, and we managed. In most things, he was a totally decent guy, but when he started following around his hard-on, then there was trouble.

He got married once, and his divorce was final before their first anniversary. Turns out she was going to the air force base and entertaining more troops than the USO. Then he got married again, and he was way too busy to do much of anything…almost.

We would get a big group together and watch the wrestling pay-per-view events, and he’d show up for them. This eventually evolved into a monthly backyard wrestling thing that we taped for about a year. We wrote scripts, cut promos, and had some great storylines. It was a lot of fun to do, and a hell of a lot of fun to watch together.

But Scott was the one that wrote the scripts, and he did do a good job. The problem was that he started to pull a variety of machinations and swerves to put himself over. He would give himself more promos, more belts, and give himself as much time on camera as possible. At one point, we had considered lining up in a single file line and letting him pin us all. The wrestling thing was something fun for us all to do, but he got way too into it, and really carried everything to a dangerous extreme.

The last couple of times that I talked to him on the phone before he moved away to Europe, the wrestling was the only thing that he seemed to want to talk about. I would try and change the subject, and it eventually all led right back to wrestling. We had lost him.
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