Inimitable Eavesdropper, Inveterate Nailbiter

The Comic Book Shop guys were killing me yesterday. Customer One and Guy Behind The Counter are both in their late twenties. They're talking about girls. Apparently, C1 has had some pretty crazy relationships in the past, and Angela hasn't called him in a week. I notice that one thing all of his relationships have in common is that "nothing was ever written in stone." Opon any lengthy exegesis of his past interpersonal misfortunes, he usually admits that they'd been talking for awhile, had been on a few dates, so on. It was really obvious that these dates were about as hot as going to the movies with your grandma. The funny thing is that GBTC, usually affable & friendly, is kind of on the ropes because he doesn't pretend to date. GBTC responds to C1's boasts by saying "there you go." At first, because he was uncomfortable on a subtle distracted level, and then, as it became painfully obvious that C1 is full of shit and was just friends, if that, with these girls, it was because he was really trying to let the guy know that he was being taken with a deerlick sized grain of salt. There you go. There you go. Occasionally, he'd pepper it a little bit to keep his vocal loop from being boring and unfun. Yep... There you go. It was killing me. I kept waiting for him to look to me as the straight man in our unconscious comedy duo of which only I was aware. GBTC'd stretch out the pauses and affect the inflection until he assumed this larger-than-life Shatnerian Kabuki posture. I felt his Nerd Power growing as this exchange between himself and the overenthusiastic imp and his hilarious bullshit went on and on. Huh! GBTC spit out that bemused little snort like an exhausted bull Bison huffing out steam. The lock eyes. The room stops, and I am fascinated... trying to look at some nearly wordless graphic novel about a Russian guy with jagged rictus scrawled from cheek-to-cheek. There you go... I guess. C1 had just said "I don't buy whiskey because I'll just drink the whole bottle myself. I don't even use a chaser. I'm just like AAAAAAaaahhh. It just doesn't even get me drunk." Everyone knows that a six-pack lasts this guy two weeks, and his Dad drinks the last few. GBTC just brought the smackdown. It was so light and graceful, because GBTC hadn't cared a little bit for a long time. There you go... I guess. With that, C1 went. It wasn't anything that C1 could have grabbed onto. It was a friendly way of winning without participating. C1 jaust gave up the ghost, and GBTC did it with the flick of a finger. Checkmate.
After C1 left, I felt like GBTC and I were just going to be friends. Nah. He kept sitting at his computer, doing his thing. I bought my comic and smiled on my way to the car.

That got me thinking about how so many romances are deviod of honesty anymore. I feel like men hate women because they're terrified that the women might leave, and women hate men because they're pretty sure they're going to do so. I've been thinking alot lately about what relationships in my life are healthy. I don't want to be an oblivious and cocky bullshitter, least of all to myself. I know I've been less than awesome, but at least I'm working on it. Me and GBTC are certainly as jealous and selfish and petty and unsettled as C1, but we've been outside the house and gotten a good look at it, at least. C1 is never going to come up for air, especially if he keeps drinking Whiskey like that.

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