Cut From The Same Cloth

When Ja. calls I worry a bit.

I think about how much time it is going to take me to drive home, get a bat, and brass knuckles (maybe the razor), and then get back into town.

We are those kind of friends.

Today when I saw the call coming in that is what I thought about.

But he just wanted to talk.

Wednesday nights me and some mates go out, just to bull shit and have some fun, normal guy stuff. He wanted to know about that, so no beating people up, that is good.

So conversation drifted. We had been going to one place on Wednesday, specifically to the place where D. works. To a new place (one where we can be more loud and vulgar). So Ja. says to me, "Won't that cut into your chance to see D.?"

"Yeah I try not to dwell on that, since it is a thing that isn't going to happen."

Then the conversation devolved into our mutual abilities to manipulate people into compromising situations. He and I are the kind of people that you can't trust. The ones that never seem to get drunk because we figured out that you can cut gin with water just to keep drinking while you scam people. The ones that figured out that you can touch people on the arm to reinforce the idea that you want planted in their head. The ones that test themselves on checkout girls, just to make sure they can still convince someone to come home with them.

Real bastards.

Cut from the same fucking cloth.

And bad for each other.

We'll be hanging out tomorrow night. Brilliant.

File under Vice.