Neighborhood gigolo?

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Jun 29th, 2008 @ 4:47 pm

A friend of mine from high school committed suicide over the weekend.

We were pretty close in high school. I had my first taste of liquor at his place and along with our friend Rachel we were pretty much inseparable for two years: The Three Musketeers was the name we called our rag-tag punk neighborhood selves.

I met one of my first girlfriends at his place at a bonfire in his back yard.

We paid a bum once to buy us beer in Olney. Then we ran from the cops when they found all five of us drinking in the Montessori school.

He dropped out of school our senior year. Never graduated. He sort of fell of the face of the earth. I heard he became a plumber’s assistant.

I saw him about three years ago. He was driving a shitty little car and he pulled up next to me while I was stopped at the light. We talked while we waited for the light to change and promised that we would hang out sometime soon.

It is slightly ironic that I last saw him at Todd’s wake. Todd careened off the side of the road after an all night binge.

That group of people never amounted to much. Todd died. Katie got married to a dishwasher. Ana is all sorts of fucked up and in and out of mental institutions. And I have no idea what the hell happened to Crystal.

Journalism, it seems, saved my life. If I hadn’t become Editor-in-Chief of the Messenger, I would most likely still hang out with those kids. Being proud of the paper and the hard work I put into it made me aspire to be better.

But it makes me said that Dan and Todd never found something to live for…

At Todd’s wake we traded phone numbers and suggested we meet up in D.C. to go out drinking.

When Jon called me to tell me about Dan, I couldn’t help but think that if I followed through…if somehow I reached out to him and we had gone out in D.C. it might have been different.

What I remember most about hanging out at his place was his mom. She was the nicest person in the world and when Dan and I couldn’t drive she would cart us around in a beat up van — they never really had much money.

I can’t imagine how that family feels.

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