Can’t say that I liked him at first, wasn’t his fault really, dudes just don’t typically like other dudes. Besides he was an alpha male, so am I, sometimes, when Rachel allows it. Plus, he’s all fucked up. A neurological disorder has rendered him walking as if he was hit by a car, recently, maybe daily. Rachel calls it a mild gait disturbance. Yeah, like I only have a slight case of neurotic.
In actuality, he has hereditary spastic paraplegia. I’m not sure what that means, but it looks like his upper and lower torso are in a race, and the upper is winning. It instantly makes me feel bad for him. Then I feel bad for feeling bad. Then I feel grateful. Then I feel tiny because two days ago I felt bad about myself for a tenth of a second. Until I realize, I’m not him.
But Gary and I share the same affliction. His was genetic. Mine was environmental. We’re both survivors. Maybe that’s why I perceived a clash where there was none. He’s hard to get to know, but in a shy unassuming way. I’m hard to get to know because arm’s length is close enough, unless you’re a hot chick.
Last night we all went out to a bar, a hole in the wall pub with barely enough room to move. While walking out he inadvertently bumped into a chucklehead that took his instability as provocation. I saw his face, ready to say something smug to Gary. My fists clenched. I’d have punched him square in the neck without thinking twice if he spoke (I'm sure Gary would have had he seen it too). That’s how I know I like him now. He’s loyal to a fault, and braver than I’ll ever be.
Say hi to Gary.
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