Not sure what to say about this one. Not sure if I'm gonna write a second part. Just watched a French series where the characters were refreshingly honest about their selfishness, even if that made them a bit of an asshole. Figured I'd give it a try. There's no justifying this, so why bother trying?
*** *** *****
The movie had been typical summer stupid, but not offensively bad, so Brian and I just shared ironic looks while the others gushed about how awesome it had been. As usual, they immediately started talking about where they wanted to go drinking that night. I amused myself by people watching. The theater at the mall was almost perpetually filled with teens on dates, roving packs of jailbait, and little lolis dragging their parents to the latest Pixar knockoff. All I had to do was put on a bored expression and I could enjoy the view with no one being the wiser, so long as I didn't focus on anyone too closely.
I didn't chime in on my coworker's deliberations, which surprised exactly no one. They always talked about how I was so chill, and how I always just went with the flow. The truth is, I didn't give a rats ass where we ended up, and I only came out on these little outings so I wouldn't seem antisocial. I like my coworkers well enough, and it's worth a night of tedium every now and again to keep up good relations, though only just.
Brian broke off from the debate and struck up a conversation with me about True Detectives. He was the most irascible fuck I worked with, sarcastic, short tempered, and he looked like a bald, lumberjack version of grumpycat. He was also one of the most observant, empathetic, and thoughtful people I had the privilege to know. He put up a tough facade, and he'd make fun of you mercilessly if he knew you could take it, but he also was the first to recognize when someone was on the verge of a meltdown at work, and he always seemed to know just what to say. He always stuck up for the little guy, and made sure no one felt left out. He was just plain good people, and I was glad to know him. He also scared me, because I often felt certain he understood me better than he let on. I'm pretty sure he had me pegged as closet homosexual, and I tried to encourage that assumption. It was a hell of a lot better than the alternative. So we chatted for a bit about how surprised we were to realize that Matthew McConaughey was not only a real actor, but a fucking amazing actor at that, how fucking good the writing was, and what an oppressive mindfuck the series was, as a whole.
That was when I saw a familiar face, and realized something was odd. I wasn't sure why the woman had caught my eye. She was pretty enough, but nothing remarkable, and a bit old for me anyway. She was walking out to the parking lot, pulling her keys out of her purse as she walked. I couldn't quite put my
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