"So here's the question."
"I'm all ears."
"No, you're all mouth. Shut up and listen."
"All right, I'm listening."
"No, you're still talking."
I want to tell him that okay, I'm listening for real now. Instead, I stay silent and listen.
Seconds pass, until he's sure I'm not gonna say anything.
"This is the question, the real question. Would you rather be the trusting guy who gets fucked in the asshole, or the un-trusting asshole who doesn't?"
"Geez. Those are my only two options?"
He throws his empty beer bottle at a duck, and misses so bad that the duck doesn't even bother to worry. "Of course those are the only two options. You either trust people and get fucked over, or you don't trust them, and you're the asshole."
"I think you're over-simplifying things."
"You think that because you're a moron. Which answers the question, actually."
"Because if you disagree with me, it's because you're one of the trusting people who get fucked."
"In my asshole?"
"In whatever. Orifices aren't important in this scenario."
"Seems like orifices should always be important."
He opens a new bottle and takes a few deep drinks. "I'm sorry for you, man."
"You're the one who is all messed up. Why would you feel sorry for me?"
"Because you're one of the ones who will take it the hardest. You believe the best in people. You look at me, you think I'm cynical. You think I'm negative, you think my view is wrong. So when you find out I'm right, it's just gonna be that much worse on you."
"There are good people out there." I take a drink of my own beer, not nearly as deep as his gulps, but a little deeper than I generally would. It's paranoia, his outlook. I know this. But it still bugs me a little, I guess.