I thought my life was bizarre

So, I hung out with a guy from the office. This is my first office friend.

Making friends in an office is totally different from making them in a restaurant. In a restaurant, after every shift, people sit and have a drink. So, from day one, you are meeting and getting fucked up with people and that facilitates the meeting process.

That is why people in restaurants develop a trench warfare closeness that other jobs sites don't have. That is also why people in restaurants sleep with one another with a far too casual air.

In an office, you talk slightly while at work, and then you agree on something, which makes you expand your topics of conversation, and then you realize that you are like minded people, and you continue to expand your topics, and then one day after you have had an unusual giggle fest, you turn to the other and say, " we have to go out and have drinks sometime."

Then, you do.

Tonight, was drinks sometime with the guy who runs the office for SS. He is a friend on myspace. He is the naked guy with the guitar.

So, I get to his studio apartment, because we decided to meet where he lives, since he lives close to me, and I was just getting out of work. Plus, he had a twelve pack.

He plays some songs for me, and then shows me how he has learned the drum part to them. He is a musician, and though he mostly plays guitar, he just learned the drums, and has a set taking up 1/3 of his none too spacious living room. He is actually very accomplished for only learning the drums a couple of months ago.

Then, he takes me outside. It is a twisting, winding path up through his landlord's back yard to an upper deck that looks out over the Hollywood Hills and views the Hollywood sign. We take seats on lawn chairs and smoke some pot, and talk about how we are both divorced. Suddenly, I get what was the like minded clue that made him first decide to suggest drinks.

We tell some funny stories about being married, and traveling as a couple, and trying to score chicks since being single. We bitch about the divorce process. We giggle over stories of SS.

We go inside to refuel. Once there, he asks if I would like to see photos. Sure. He plops down on a tiny couch next to me, and digs through a shoe box full of photos. He shows me pictures of his ex and of him, of him in high school, of him and his step dad, you know, regular family type photos.

Then, he shows me photos of buildings. A hotel he stayed in in Vancouver. The building across the street from that hotel.

He shows me photos of his ex girlfriend. Naked photos of her. Then, naked photos of high school friends. Not the sort of naked photos I want to see. Not even the ones of his girlfriend, although she was attractive, it still is kind of creepy.

Then, he shows me photos of his old job in Seattle as a dispatcher for bike messengers. He shows his other co workers shooting up, and fingering one another, and standing around the job in their underwear because they got caught in the rain. He tells me it was the strangest place to work, but I think it is also strange to have taken photos of the place and now show them to a stranger. Well, not a total stranger, but really, is this a first drink activity?

We talk a bit more about music, and then tell some more silly stories about each other, and then, that is that. I bid him adieu, and take leave of him for the night.