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My best friend Kane got so drunk at a party with me a couple of weekends back that he totally passed out in the back of the car on the way home.   It was tempting.

What?

What’s more surprising?   I’d ‘take advantage’?   Whatever – we’ll cover that whole ‘sexual angle’ fiction gives us some other time.   It’s non-gendered?   Tell me you ask the gender of meat when out dining at restaurants.   Please.   I drink, drive and go to parties?   Dude.   High school.   I have a best friend?

Now that one is kinda shocking, yeah?   Solitary creatures of the night, lonely predators, unknown, unloved, apart from humanity…   You watch too much fucking television.   Kane is cool.   We hang out.   He’s a normal teen, whatever the hell that is: he likes angry music and harbouring resentment and doing crazy stunts and complaining about school and talking shit about girls.   And doritoes.   He loves doritoes.

And I’m good with all of that.   Part of the persona, yeah, but Kane is a funny guy and we’re friends.   He doesn’t know.   Doesn’t need to.   And come on, it’s not so weird – people have pet birds but still eat chicken.   We can be discriminating.

Still – I’m not saying it doesn’t get tempting.   Especially the other night.   Revved and ravenous from the party buzz, and the guy is already dead to the world.   But hey, I reminded myself – we’re friends.   Morality, loyalty… it goes something like that, doesn’t it?   Basically, someone else I don’t really know would do just as well and I won’t have met their mom.   Besides, if I eventually get tired of him or he starts pissing me off, I know where he lives.   Him and his mom.

So I dragged him up to his house and left him on the porch like a Back to the Future in-joke, nicked back to the party, caught a straggler girl and made a quick withdrawal.   She’d only been on the cheap white wine, luckily – I’d been watching.

That’s probably where the ‘only virgins’ thing comes from.   No, dickhead – not whether you and that kid in eighth grade had squelchy awkward teen sex or not, but how young and physically fresh you are.   Clean healthy plasma, baby.   All those people walking around with infections and diseases killing them slowly, or working on their ongoing suicide attempts getting fucked up on drugs – irony is, you’re safe from us.   No-one wants their meal contaminated.   Shag whoever you like, but don’t start putting any kind of shit in your veins or snorting or digesting stuff that gets absorbed into the bloodstream, or catching something vile that any one of us might accidently eat.   Urgh.   Nothing worse than having someone for dinner who doesn’t agree with you.

Alcohol – that works okay.   So if desperate, a wino in the park will do, but that’s our equivalent of fast food.   Quick and easy but tastes like shit.   But a short dalliance and a nip or two with a flushed and amorous school mate satisfied everyone.

Kane called (very late) the next day to boast about his stunning hangover and ask how the rest of the party was.

I told him it was bloody good.

 

NEXT ENTRY…

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