Bleeding Fiction

Here's why Brian's cool:

He's waffles

A light crisp battercake baked in a waffle iron.

In terms of physical number of years upon the earth, Brian's my oldest friend. He's been married fewer years than others, but as far as the world of career and "adult responsibility" goes he's got a lot. For all of that, though, he's one of my friends who's grown up the least. And not only is he short, but he's also child-like. Not childish, child-like.

I became friends with Brian while he was driving at ninety miles an hour to get me to my driver's road test and back to work before anyone noticed we were missing, most notably the parents of the kids Brian was meant to be watching - the parents' whose good will would transform into the more sizable portion of his salary. The story's longer, but the cruz of it is that even with all that he still had the guys to joke with me about the car breaking down.

That's why Brian's cool.