by Jake Christie

a story.

We didn't have a thing to do until Brian got back from the store -- that is, we didn't have a thing to drink until Brian got back from the store, and since drinking was the one thing we wanted to do, ipso facto, not a thing to do -- so we squeezed onto the couch and turned on the TV. The cable was screwed up so we only got two channels, one with news and one with cartoons. We picked cartoons.

We just sat there and watched for a second before Casey scratched his head, like he was acting out the word "thinking" in charades, and asked, "Why did Doug wear a sweatervest?"

"What do you mean?" I said. "Why does anyone wear anything?"

"Well," said Casey, "how many kids do you know who wore sweatervests? I mean, I had some wicked bad clothes, but a sweatervest? That's like old man stuff. That's substitute teacher stuff."

On the other end of the couch, on the other side of me, Bill piped in with, "Old man substitute teacher stuff."

"His best friend is blue," I said.

"Oh yeah," said Casey. He switched scratching hands. Bill stared at the sweatervest-clad cartoon and his teal best friend. I looked at the door, wondering how long it would take before Brian got back with the beer.

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