typical guy.

he was always in awe of the latest technology. the year palm pilots came out, he was on top of it, drooling and gasping for air beneath the stench of the digital media that was becoming his ... always a slave to blinking lights.

i once watched him play a video game for twelve hours straight. in the sixth hour, i went and got him some soda and a pizza. we were both in a zone. he didn't move, except for his hands hovering and punching over the buttons on the controller. i sat on the same corner of the couch, chin propped in my hand, not moving. we both stayed there for twelve hours. neither of us lived in the apartment at the time.

this was the way it frequently ended up with typical guy and i. neither of us officially lived there, but during the late morning hours when his goth had left for class and my storyteller had left for work ... he and i exchanged stories, rants, cigarettes, time. we were always there, waiting for our others to come back to us. calling a shrub a tree and a tree a shrub, i was didi to his gogo or him didi to my gogo ... either way, we always had a date to wait together.

usually punished for being too honest, i think he found an outlet with me ... the one girl who he didn't have to worry about seducing. and me? i had a friend who always took that extra step to see me smile ... even if he had to wait all day.