Me: We're never going to get together for happy hour.
Toe: It's your fault.
Me: You're right. It's my fault that you blew me off the last two times, the last time being because your baby-mamma got mad because you were meeting me, "A chick". I'm so sorry. I'm not going to agree on happy hour again though unless you bring her with you. It's not like I don't know her, we went to school together.
Toe: It's okay. I forgive you. She's not a drinker, at all. Maybe I can just fail to mention to her that I'm meeting you.
Me: That's lying. You're my buddy, but I just can't be a part of that.
Toe: Well, if I happen to meet up with a buddy in your area, I'm telling you dammit. And you'll accidentally run into me there or I'm not going to be your friend anymore.
Love my buddies, but sometimes they can be real dipshits.
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