His girlfriend kept asking me for my painkillers whenever he left the room, "Come on Bobby, gimme a pill. Gimme a pill." Every time he left the room: to take a leak, to get us more beers, to do whatever -- every time, the girlfriend: "gimme a pill gimme a pill." It was very awkward. I just smiled and said, "I don't know I don't know I don't know."
He had told me that this girl had once had a very serious drug problem - with a very serious drug. What was I going to do? Give her pills? Hell no. And anyway I needed the goddam things for my separated shoulder, for bona fide pain -- this was a legitimate prescription. Plus, I didn't like how freakin pushy she was being. I was starting to realize that I really did not get this girl. At all. Every time I hung out with them she would talk everybody to death about real estate. Loudly. Loud enough to cause pains in my skull.
But regarding him: He could have been my best friend. We had just about everything in common. We met while playing soccer at the YMCA. I couldn't possibly bring myself to tell him what happened with her, her practically begging me for my pills. I mean, I could have told him, I guess, but it all would have blown up badly. So I just decided to avoid the both of them. But I keep seeing him at the YMCA all the time and at the bookstore. I just keep walkin. Bad, huh?