I used to live with a couple of guys called Girlie and Gomez. They have an interesting friendship that resembles a mob vendetta. I’ve seriously thought about scripting a sitcom based entirely on what it was like to live with them.
These guys are never genuinely mean, they never truly hurt each other, and I’ve never seen them angry at each other. But they stuff they do … my god. When one of them went out, the other might shout “Don’t come back!” When Girlie got his face fractured in a soccer game, Gomez acted like Christmas had come early, and he expressed hope that there would be permanent disfigurement. But he was disappointed that Girlie had accepted anesthetic, and hadn’t set the bones himself, because that “would have manned up.”
Girlie accepted all of this without resentment. That’s their world.
A couple of days ago I emailed Girlie to say hello. He wrote back and mentioned that Gomez had big news that I should ask him about. So I wrote to Gomez, wondering if he was getting married.
Here’s what Gomez wrote back:
The news Girlie was so giddy to relay was the massive round of layoffs that my employer had. As of this Monday, I’ve been back on the job market.
I have to give Girlie credit. I think he might be the actual devil.