So I have a close friend who is homeless. He'd been gone for a while to somewhere else and just lately showed up. He, his friend, and I talked till 2 in the morning last night, and I was thrilled to see him. He came into my place of work today. I lent him my car keys so he and his friend could grab a nap. He comes in three hours later asking If I took my keys back. He informs me he has LOST my car keys, and speculates that they probably fell out of the car and someone has taken them. (!!) We search the car. Nothing. My best friend, Jared, buses across the fuckin city,while I finish working, and the two friends (I thought) finish napping. I finish closing, Jared comes in, we head to my car, open the trunk, and find the keys. I open the car, and a wave of beer smell comes out. I discover that my "friend" has allowed two other friends into my car to warm up, and drink beer. I kick them all out of my car.
I feel bad.
Jared and I take ourselves home, he makes me fabulous spaghetti, I thank him again and again for comming out on such short notice.
At the end of this debaucle, I feel horribly guilty. For kicking the lowlifes out of my car, for not thanking Jared enough, and for blowing up at a regular who happened to say the not-quite-right thing to say at that moment. I'm sure my friend is drunk by now and couldn't care less.
I really hate people. Why? Because I feel guilt, and I don't think anyone else in the world does.
He didn't even thank me for letting him crash in my car, nor the gas he wasted to heat up the car. Nor apologize for stressing me all fricken night, nor apologize for letting drunks into my car.
But I feel bad. (!!!) I (!!!) feel bad.
As whats-his-name in fight club says " I (want) to destory something beautiful"