Friendliness Helps

Every Friday night, my friend Jacob and I head out to the Irish pub down the way from the hospital he works at for a couple of drinks. We always order the same thing: a strawberry martini for him, a ginger ale for me. This all began a few years ago when I finally got a job in teaching after months of unemployment. Those months were not fun; residing under the roof of a friend and stuck sleeping on a sofa for several months was not my idea of grand living. That, and he always brought someone new home every other day, forcing me to put my head between pillows during their private sessions. Having to use pillows as ineffective earplugs was always a pain.

Like every Friday ? once our drinks were delivered ? Jacob would comment on my drink of choice. He picked up his small martini glass, turned it around with his fingers, and stared at me with the corner of his left eye as my slouched self began to sip my drink with a clear straw. ?You know that you are 25 years old now, right?? Jacob downs his drink and gently places it back down onto table. He turned himself around on the bar stool, ?Philip, you ought to live a little!? I had let go of the straw, turned my head towards him, and just smiled, ?But I am living a little? I don?t usually have ginger ale during the week!? He scoffed at my answer and ordered another drink.