Could Be Worse

When I saw Dave again, he was apologetic. “He told me to ask you, I thought he was kidding. I wouldn't ask you to get into trouble for me.”

This made me smile. Tim's simple-minded grumpiness was still under my skin. Dave's response reminded me, finally, why I had agreed to do this: I like Dave. He's a nice guy and a good worker. When he asked me to help him, putting the responsibility of making this happen on me, I wanted to help him out because he's nice. “Dave, its okay. I've had friends like him before. And worse for that matter.” I considered this for a moment. “Has he ever tarred and feathered your car?”

Dave laughed, probably instinctively.”No.” I tapped myself on the chest. “No, really.” I nodded. “By your friend? That's a pretty wild prank.”

“I thought so too. It was a pain to clean off.”

Tina was poured over a chair near the kitchen table. “That actually sounds like a pretty [unpleasant] thing to do. He thought that was funny?”

“He didn't think I would find it funny,” I tried to explain. “He thought other people would find it funny.”

“How?” she paused. “How would that be funny?”

I tried to explain.