I bumped into a friend today at the courthouse -- someone I haven't seen in a while. We did the usual catch-up as we waited in the hallway for our respective hearings. It was really good to see him.
And yet it also wasn't. Why, I hear you ask? Well, we used to work at the same firm, and as he went through the people that we used to work with together, he very carefully (to my mind, anyway), and studiously avoided any mention of our mutual friend The Inappropriate Crush Girl. Maybe I am reading too much into this, but she was a very good friend of his, and to have him ask me about Lars the copy service guy, and tell me about Skippy the real estate paralegal from the Sheboygen office without mentioning her just seems a bit off.
Which leads me to a couple of dark thoughts:
(1) Dude, I am so fucked up. How did this chick implant herself so deeply into my soul?
(2) They were such good friends that she told him about my blurting out to her of my crush on her, and so he avoided mentioning her out of delicacy.
(3) I am reading way too much into a brief conversation.
Anyway, as you all know, it doesn't take much for me to plunge back into the dark beauty of the ICG. So I am wallowing a bit in memories and thoughts of her today.
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1 comment:
No shit, bro. When I find him in Mombassa, in a barroom drinking gin, the dude is toast.
Kidding aside, he was probably trying to save me from myself.
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