So apparently Mike’s friend Clay doesn’t seem to know about Mike’s friend me, and I don’t know, maybe it’s a small thing, but WHAT THE FUCK!? Is this guy serious? Aren’t we Facebook friends or something? I almost hugged this fucking guy, thank god he said something first!
Does Mike not talk about me to his friends from Ithaca? Should he? I can’t really imagine why he would, but now I’m angry. Like, oh, now I’m the “weird guy who can’t stop thinking about Mike’s friends”. No dude, you’re clearly Mike’s friend Clay! I know this because you’re the only person I’ve ever met named Clay. I also know that you like BMX bike stuff and that you had a really hot girlfriend who I used to Facebook stalk a little bit, which means we are almost definitely friends on Facebook.
Those are all the things I know about Mike’s friend Clay. It’s not a creepy amount of stuff to know about him; it’s a normal amount, a courteous amount for friends of friends. He’s all trying to shake my hand like, “Nice to meet you, dude,” without even attempting the “I feel like we must’ve met at some point” routine that is certainly customary in this scenario. But I guess to Clay, 2017 never happened. Poor guy, he must have no idea about the #MeToo movement or Blade Runner 2049. Surely he suffered some 2017-specific brain injury or maybe some amnesia that only affects his memory of Mike’s former co-workers.
I went to Taco Bell with this motherfucker!
I hate Clay now. He’s my enemy. It’s honestly super weird that he doesn’t remember me because I know for a fact that I got embarrassingly drunk the night we met, and everyone was talking about it. In fact, we were asked to leave the Taco Bell because of me! I threw up, it was freaking hilarious. Like, ok, fine, maybe you don’t remember my “name” but you could at least have the decency to say, “Hey, weren’t you that guy who barfed on the counter at Taco Bell, that was hilarious!” or something along those lines.
Fucking Clay… It’s funny, now that he’s introduced himself, he’s never felt more like a stranger.
