TV Boys.

It was raining outside and it was cold. Two friends sat at a bar together. Like they always did, whenever it was night time.

“Do you ever get a feeling like maybe sometimes, your whole life is exactly like The Truman Show?”

“And you're living your life with millions of people watching?”

“And all of your friends are fake and are a part of it?”

“Yeah”

“Yeah”

“That's what you would say. If you were trying to fake me out though.”

“How do I know you're not trying to fake me out.”

“Haha! Yeah, because with everything that you get up to in life, there would be sooo many people watching.”

“Aha! Another fake out, I'm very entertaining, especially if they have a direct hook up to my inner monologue. I'm fucking amazing.”

“You just think about sex all the time. And masturbate”

“Yeah, but my audience loves that about me.”

They were best friends. And they were morons.

“So, are your parents really your parents then?”

“Yeah? Hey! I don't know.”

“Probably not right, someone would have to pay them to put up with you, makes way more sense.”

“Yeah, that explains a lot.”

“So, am I supposed to be getting money for being your friend then? Since it's like, my full time job?”

“Fuck you! Yeah, you should get paid more than anyone else my show, you don't even get a vacation, like ever.”

“Where do you think I really go for eight hours a day when you're at work.”

“Ahhh,”

“Yeah man, I got like, a real family and a great wife and kids and stuff, You're paying for it all. Because the world loves how much you love to watch CSI”

“But what if they do? What if that's like...part of the show, they watch it with me and it's like an experience, they're all like, awe, did you see David's reaction to what Lawrence Fishburne did to that bad guy?”

“Ah, yeah actually, when I go home to my real life, I love to watch re-runs of you watching re-runs.”

It's not hard to guess that they were drunk. They were sitting at a bar, waiting for maybe a group of girls to come in, so that they could talk to them, and maybe have sex.

So far, no girls had come in, but the beers had not stopped.

They knew that they were living at a great time in thier lives where they could hold off on real life ambition without any consequence other than boredom. So they were free to be lazy and drunk about as much as they wanted. They were in their early twenties. And they could get away with anything, and all would be forgiven.

They also knew it had to end, because you can only do that life for so long before it becomes sad, and the conversation runs dry. Like it was tonight.

“So, so, what's your life like?”

“What?”

“Ah, never mind man, How come there aren't any girls coming in tonight?”

“It's a Tuesday.”

“I've gotten laid on Tuesdays before.”

“Not more often than not.”

“Yeah,”

“One more pitcher than we can go?”

“Yeah okay.”

They finished up thier pitchers and knew that the end of this was coming soon, they had no way of knowing that that would actually be one of the last times they went out together. But they felt it. They had to.

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Ten years later, they miss each other, and randomly the life. Mostly because, in times like that a friendship seems so strong that there's nothing to break it apart. Except for time. Time breaks it apart. It doesn't take away the sentiment. But it can take away the contact, or the general every day concern. And then you're left with a good friendship, that you would wish could come up more often in life. It had been four years since they had actually seen each other in person. They smiled and hugged.

“Aha! You're making a guest appearance in my show are you.”

“Yeah, well, I became so popular I got my own spin off series, now people love to watch me watching Doctor Who”

“Doctor What now?”

“Don't start.”

“What?”

“Ugh”

“So the spin off is going well?”

“Yeah, ratings are high, we have are ups and downs but it's pretty solid.”

“Yeah, sometimes I feel like I need to mix things up to keep em watching.”

“Like CSI Miami?”

“Do they still make that?”

“I hope not.”

Laughter.

“Bar?”

“Bar.”

“Beer?”

“Nah, I quit beer, I'm a wine guy now.”

“Really?”

“Haha, no. I'm just messing with you. Ha!”

And they went and they got drunk and they talked about their wives, their successes and failures, and they remembered the good times, and laughed at the bad times. Although they had changed, the bar hadn't. There were still no women in it, because it was another rainy Tuesday, but this time they weren't looking. They were too busy being their old selves, loud and obnoxious in public. Maybe even a little exaggerated to make up for all of the lost time between them.

“Years later, I've never had friends like the ones I had when I was twenty two. Christ on a stick looking for his mom. Does anyone?”

“Stand by Me, right?”

“Yeah but with my touch.”

“Well, don't write it down, they could sue you.”

“Let them try.”

“So whose the camera following now?”

“Both of us.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah man, we're together.”

“I'm not going to fuck you.”

“I came all this way though.”

“Hey, not another four years before we do this again okay?”

“Okay.”

And they wouldn't. They couldn't. They had to.