Open your heart to me... and I will mock you mercilessly

I have a friend with whom I used to work when I was at CBS, let's just call him Joey Joe Joe. During the years that I got to know him, he became more and more infatuated with Jay-See, and during the years that he got to know me, I became more and more infatuated with baseball. And we would, as fellas are wont to do, give each other sh*t about our respective passions. He really got under my skin at times, but I never seemed to get him as riled. I guess it's all that inner peace that comes with the knowledge you're not going to aitch-ee-double-hockey-stix like me. But he also makes me laugh, like when I was at his wedding and he was walking back down the aisle with his bride and he leaned across her to whisper "Go Yankees!" to me.

It's been a few months since we talked. In fact, I can tell you exactly what date and approximately what time we talked: it was January 15th, sometime around 5:30 or 6:00, as the Bears were losing to the Panthers in the NFL playoffs. He called me during the game, I screamed at him and told him not to call me again because he was jinxing the Bears (which he was), and he did the unthinkable and called me again.

Yesterday, out of the blue, I got a text message from Joey, almost exactly five months later:
"I apologize for being an ass during the bears game."

Time heals all wounds, they say. This is a deeeep wound, but I guess "they" say that for a reason, and I had a good chuckle. I replied in kind with a text message:
"WWJD? He'd forgive."

A conciliatory response to a conciliatory message, right? But then I followed up with another message:
"I ain't Jesus."

I don't wanna toot my own horn, but that's some funny stuff. And I got a kick out of his response:
"Thank God you're not."

And we still haven't actually talked...

(You can file this as reason #127 that I'm glad I'm not a chick. When Joey and I do talk again, and hang out, it'll be as if no time has passed.)