Re-launched, but still slightly under construction. :-)

Wednesday, March 10, 2004

Not a Good Day

The phone rings.

Carol: Hey, it's Carol.
Me: Hey! How are you?
Carol: Well, I'm - I'm not calling under good circumstances.
Me: Oh. Okay. What's up?
Carol: We're just calling everyone who were friends. But... last night... Lance passed away last night.
There is an interminably long silence. Lance. Dead. What...
Me (at my most articulate): What?
Carol: Yeah.
Me: What happened?
Carol: We don't really know. They did an autopsy this morning. It's alcohol-related. But we won't know until the toxicology report comes back in.
Me: Okay. How's Sarah?
Carol: She's... not good. I think she's sleeping right now - which is a good thing. But we're all over here right now... Jacob, Foster, Kara is coming by later.
Me: Okay. I'll be there as soon as I can. I'm watching a very destructive dog right now, and I can't leave him. He'll tear up the house. Can I bring anything?
Carol: No. Her church put together a lot of food, and we have drinks and ice over here right now.
Me: Alright. I'll see what I can do with the dog, and I'll be there ASAP.
Carol: Okay. See you later.

I'm stuck with the dog. Scott's old roommates won't take his mangy ass, even for a couple of hours. Better yet, I come back into the living room, and he's peed in a line from the kitchen into the bathroom.

What the fuck happened? He and Sarah split up over his drinking. Maybe he tried to stop again and his heart just couldn't take it. I haven't seen him for a month. I don't know how he was doing. I was going to get his new number and call him to let him know that I was still his friend, too (even though my primary loyalty is to Sarah, let's be honest). And I put it off too long.

My name is Stacey, and I'm a Wal-Mart friend.


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