rubi inbox

[pharmacy]

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Quentin Smith, 23

letters ◇ thoughts ◇ dreams

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Comments

[drysdale]

I mean, I know you think you've got me all figured out, but I wasn't under any impression we're besties. What do you want for it?

[pharmacy]

If it'll make you feel better, you can owe me a favor
Does that feel better?

[drysdale]

[ mental squint ]

For my meds? You capitalist prick. How 'bout I don't, since I think we're having two different conversations here.

[pharmacy]

hey, am I being too nice or am I capitalist prick? which is it?

[ Not that it matters either way: he's laughing over it and starting the rolling process even as he waits for the answer. ]

[drysdale]

I'm not the guy to ask either way.

[pharmacy]

you're the guy who's saying both! 
what did you do back home? like for your living 

[drysdale]

I'm complicated that way.

My last job was in the laundry room.

[ Come on, Quentin, you already know this. ]

[pharmacy]

and before you had prison cred?

[drysdale]

[ mental shrug ]

Professional disappointment to my family.

[pharmacy]

wow, tough gig
was prison part of a scheme to embarrass them or just an unfortunate byproduct?

[drysdale]

Are you asking me what I did?

I didn't offer that little tidbit voluntarily, you know. Maybe it's a sensitive subject. You could be triggering me right now.

[pharmacy]

hey if you're triggered, we've got stuff for anxiety too, I'll make a pot of chamomile :P

[drysdale]

My body is a temple, I'm not putting any of that shit in it.

[pharmacy]

lmfao fuck off with that

look if you want smokes, I've got you
that's all
come see me

[drysdale]

[ Something kind of gratifying about that lmfao. ]

You told me to practice, I'm practicing.
Yeah yeah, not before you close. Punctual benevolent capitalist motherfucker.

[ And he's out. ]