The Last Gargoyle - Installment 4

   The vodka erased the pounding in my temples and cleared things up a bit. Nothing improved after that first encounter. Gary had gained a friend while I obsessed with evening the score; how does one live with the fact an ignoramus got the better of him? 

    Week after week I’d be confronted with all things Gary. I mean the tard couldn’t let it be. Last thing on my mind would be good old Gary and then he’d get to following me around telling everyone we were buddies. I wasn’t sure if I was embarrassed or pissed but the heat would roll off my forehead. There was no shaking Gary so the best I could do is hide behind a wall of laughter. Problem was, the more I laughed the more I hated myself. I knew I was nothing but a limp dick. News would be on in the cafeteria and I’d watch it downing a sub sandwich. Seemed like about every day there’d be a story about a shooting somewhere; left me wondering why Gary couldn’t be on the wrong end of a gun. Put him out of his misery and help me some with my state of mind. If I didn’t have vodka, I’m serious here, I’d’ve never made it.