I spent a long time this morning down at the shopping center. I was sitting reading a magazine as I waited for some of the gang to show up. George finally came pulling up in that beat up old car of his and beckoned me forward.
“Buy dis brotha a beer,” he said as he rolled down his window.
I walked inside the grocery store and bought a single Milwaukee’s Best Ice beer. I felt extremely self conscious about it as if everyone would think I had started back drinking. The things I do for George, I thought as I stood there.
“I hope this is not for you,” Virginia, the cashier said.
“It’s for a friend,” I replied.
“Uh huh,” she said suspiciously. “I shouldn’t be selling you this.”
I never did like Virginia. She always was a surly old cow.
I walked back out to hand George the beer. He cracked it open and guzzled it down and then lit a Garcia Vega cigar.
“Where’s your crazy chick of a friend?” George asked of Rosa.
“She’s at home sleeping,” I replied. “We talked this morning.”
“I still say you two are fucking,” George then said. “You spend all your time together.”
I got disgusted with George and got out of the car and told him goodbye. He drove off to go do what George normally does. It makes me angry that I can’t have a best friend who is a woman without everyone thinking we are sleeping together.