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lah and i head out of grand central because when he's early, he likes to scope out where he eats and he asks me
"so how do you feel about robbo's news"
"his what?"
"you didn't get the text message?"
"the what?"
"his wife had the baby and sent a bunch of us a text message"
"really? didn't get it. i guess it wasn't a priority what with having a new baby and all." i shrug, light up and look at japanese restaurant menus on lexington avenue
i've long suspected that i was what you call a "b-list friend" to a lot of my friends. also known as a "second tier" friend or "that guy you call up to hang out when your cool friends are otherwise occupied". it happens. it's the nature of things. and i'm ok with it. i mean hell, my only a-lister has been the nice lady for the last 16 years and with our marriage coming to a close, it puts things in perspective on who's going to call you back last saturday night after i left you a message and you know exactly who you are. i think bruce springsteen said it once that he was a pessimist so that when things don't work out, he wouldn't get disappointed. i'm more of a realist, life happens people get busy and everyone's got their own shit to shovel on this rock. i'm just shovelling my own without an a-list.
congrats on the new baby robbo and bird lady. hope he grows up to throw paint like his namesake. see ya when i see ya.
—the bastard
2 comments:
No, unacceptable, rail that fucker. We've known him longer than just about anyone else. You rated more than a text message, you should have gotten a fucking call, I'm disgusted with that fucker.
you know, i used to really care about this shit mo but, i just get the gumption up to rail people about this shit anymore. what does it get me? a half hearted apology? a gimme a freakin' break i just had a kid explanation? i don't have the energy for this shit anymore
i quit. monastic life for me, only with gin and tonic.
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