It’s always a good time. Especially reminiscing about lines in the gas station bathroom. My friends are the best, but there’s been a rift. And some people feel it, but none know how to fix it.
But that’s not my point now…
At dinner with friends you realize the importance of your own identity. It’s four people interacting. Four individuals sharing opinions and respecting one another. One of the four is definitely WAY more talkative than the other three. And one doesn’t make a peep until she’s three drinks deep. The other two are pretty neutral…and kinda cool as fuck. We don’t get together as often as we should.
Why? Because we have kids*
*the cute little angels hugging us through thunderstorms/assholes with attitude when skies are clear
Not the point.
Point is: FRIENDS HAVE BECOME A GUILTY PLEASURE
No bueno, compadres.