Conversations I’ll Never Have With People Who Tire Me (pt I)

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*walks up*

Me: Here. For you.

???: How did you know I liked these cigarettes?

Me: You left your other packs in your locker. Not hard to figure out.

???: Well, thanks I guess.

Me: Yeah. *pause* You should know I never liked you.

???: What do you mean?

Me: I was never your friend, I never liked you. No, I won’t elaborate. No, it’s not personal. I don’t like plenty of people. I’m just tired of being quiet about it. All due respect, go to hell.

*walks away*

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Knowing myself I’d probably actually do that. I’m the right kind of passive aggressive for it, to buy you something you like and tell you I never cared while I give it to you.

I imagine this is because it reflects my true thoughts best: I do care.

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I care about everyone I meet, even if they’re difficult like you, or just pricks. You are just another person, chasing your vices through life, cigarettes and whiskey, caffeine and celebrity drama.

You sing your favorite songs very loudly (and not so well) and it annoys me, but I understand.

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So, I would probably hand you your cigarettes and walk away, hoping two things, well, a few.

Firstly, that those cigarettes will make you die faster.

Secondly, that you live the life you deserve, which maybe involves becoming better and not dying from those cigarettes I gave you, or maybe it does.

Thirdly, that I never see you again.

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Fourthly, that you think of me every time you smoke.

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