A while back I posted a post about my friend, Fred — well, to be accurate, Fred’s more an acquaintance than a friend. Though I like him as much as many of the people I consider friends, and I see more of him than most of them, as almost every day since the summer of 2017 he has knocked on my front door, a bummed cigarette in one hand, a can of cheap German beer from Lidl in the other, and, after a few seconds of small talk — “hey uh hi how ya doing?” from him (I’m pretty sure he’s forgotten my name) and “Fred, what happened to your face?” or “Jesus, Fred, you look like shit,” or “Fred, man, why don’t you take a fucking shower?” from me — he gets straight to the point: “You got any money?”
Outside II
Outside II
Outside II
A while back I posted a post about my friend, Fred — well, to be accurate, Fred’s more an acquaintance than a friend. Though I like him as much as many of the people I consider friends, and I see more of him than most of them, as almost every day since the summer of 2017 he has knocked on my front door, a bummed cigarette in one hand, a can of cheap German beer from Lidl in the other, and, after a few seconds of small talk — “hey uh hi how ya doing?” from him (I’m pretty sure he’s forgotten my name) and “Fred, what happened to your face?” or “Jesus, Fred, you look like shit,” or “Fred, man, why don’t you take a fucking shower?” from me — he gets straight to the point: “You got any money?”