Sometimes things happens that you’re totally not ready for, in the best way possible. Like today.
Tanner and I met at the Shoe Mart of Mr. Rudolph Pape (we debated how long we’ve known each other, but I’m not totally sure). It’s at least five, but probably closer to seven years. I’m not sure if we’re a lot alike or complete opposites. Tanner is a few years younger than me, and is one of the most open and compassionate people I’ve ever met. Like, it’s kind of nuts but in a totally cool way. Tanner just doesn’t give a fuck most of the time. He does what he wants and has gotten me to do things I never saw myself doing–like eating chicken nuggets from McDonald’s (not even joking), Goodwill and Thrift/Antique stores shopping, multiple trips to La Juanitas, and enjoying random board games (Domination) and movies (Princess Mononoke).
Today, I received a package in the mail from Tanner. It was a double-sided letter, typewritten, in stream-of-consciousness fashion, accompanied by a James Bond novel. It covered all topics from weed-eaters to his band, New Balance tennis shoes, and puking at Adventureland.
This letter was followed by a phone call. Those topics included furries, sex while tubing, dumpster diving, childhood, and the concept of “note to self.”