Years ago, when I lived on the coast,
I made friends with this kid who was a salesman at Sears.
He once sold a coworker his ****.
He was very upset when he told me about it.
(That's the thing about regrets,
they're the type of thing one never forgets.)
We used to hit the bars,
but it never went very far.
He quickly lost interest in it when he learned I wasn't into chasing skirts.
One night we ended up on the beach in our best shoes and shirts,
and he told me how his father had drank himself to death.
It's the type of thing I'll never forget.