I was out at the bar this weekend and a guy comes up and asks my name because he said I looked familiar. I hadn’t seen this guy in 10 years but I remember he used to hang out with my little brother. My brother died like 6 years ago and I haven’t seen this guy since then so he gave me his condolences and said my brother was a good guy, etc.

Then he goes to talk to other people for a few minutes, comes back and says he saw my brother today. I’m like, “At the cemetery…?” He says no, at the gas station up on the hill and that he was looking good like he lost weight and I was just like, “Cool, cool. Yeah, he likes to work out…”

Then this chick comes over and is asks “Is my husband bothering you,” and I said, “No, I just don’t think he remembers who I am. He said he saw my brother today and my brother’s been dead for 6 years.” She starts apologizing, “Oh no, I’m sorry he got in a golf cart accident a year ago and hit his head, now he’s retarded. Not retarded-retarded, but he’s retarded.”

I don’t know what the moral of this story is, but I had to live through it and now you had to read it.