That Guy

“You’re gonna love him,
dude.
He’s crazy just like you.”

We’d been friends for years,
even though we’d
fallen out of touch
for a little while
working our shitty
little Northwest Indiana jobs.
I figured someone who was
“crazy like me”
might get on my nerves,
but he might be a lot of fun,
too.
What the hell.

Meeting the guy,
I saw a bizarro world
version of me.
If everything had
gone wrong in my life,
and I was a
defeated shell of a man
at 23,
I’d be this fucking guy.

And it started to occur to me:
is that what this motherfucker
really thinks of me?

And then this guy
I’ve just met
starts doing these dumb
circus stunts
for five dollars,
drinking fucking hot sauce
and eating expired foods.

I hated him.

Hanging out with my friend
a few weeks later,
he thought it’d be
really funny if I
made myself
look like an asshole
for five bucks.

And that’s one of those
little moments
you store away
for when you finally
do tell
your old friend
to go fuck himself.

I’m not that guy.
You dick.

-GD Butler

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