NoJobBob

he's a townie.  not forever, not seriously, but a townie staple, nonetheless.  everyone recognises him, because he walks the streets.  everyone knows someone who knows him, everyone knows someone who he owes something to.  mostly money, sometimes recognition.  he should know who i am.  i remember intimate details about him - he doesn't, about me, and it's not expected, he didn't know much to begin with - but he should remember that i know something about him.

he's the delivery-boy now.. and the people i work with know his not-so-proud nickname.  they find it funny, like i do.  they think he's a joke, but i know he's not.  he's had hard times, like the cafe i used to go to, only with less free rent.  we're not going to be surprised if the order doesn't show up someday.  he's no-job bob.  i'm not the only one in pharmacy who's seen him in compromising positions.  megan and i should have been friends long before now. 

we've decided that we know each other.  we were drunk, or stoned, or both, and it was years ago, but i'm sure we've met before.  the crazy part is, we each find each other familiar, and have since day 1, when i started with the company.. but neither of us said anything, for fear that we'd get that contempt that some people have when you bring it up.  we're familiar, but we've got no clue where from, which party, who we were with, who's house.  it's funny. 

she didn't believe it out of me the same way i didn't believe it out of her, because we're both so innocent in appearance.