FRIEND’S A FRIEND
Scenario: Three coworkers commute through the financial district.
Guy 1: Bunch of us went over to Tonic last night.
Guy 2: Yeah, who?
Guy 1: Me, and Jason, and Mark and them.
Guy 2: No Chet?
Guy 1: Chet never goes out with us after work.
Guy 2: He’s got some weird kind of personal life going on.
Guy 1: Yeah?
Guy 2: Like knows a bunch of people from college who live around here or something.
Guy 1: Huh. Did Jenn tell you that she met her Internet friend last night?
Jenn: (Warning tone.) Simmer down.
Guy 1: Friend’s a friend, Jenn.
Guy 2: Friends are fun, Jenn.
Jenn: (Stony silence as she flips through Land’s End catalogue.)
Jenn: …Maybe I’ll get a pair of fleece pants.
Guy 1: Why?
Jenn: For Minnesota.
Guy 1: You’re going to buy a pair of pants for a week-long trip?
Jenn: Yeah. Why not?
Guy 1: (Presumably pointing at a Hawiaan shirt.) That’s good for Fridays.
Guy 2: I stand firm that flowers on a shirt do not make it crazy. You know?
Guy 1: What?
Guy 2: Like you can’t just wear a Hawaiian shirt and call it a “crazy shirt.”
Guy 1: I guess.