The Company We Keep
For a few months, you came into the coffee shop where I work. We would make light banter, throw each other the occasional flirtatious look. I don't normally consider dating customers, but I was willing to make an exception. You might be wondering, then, why all of a sudden I started treating you like a normal customer (stopped complimenting you on your jackets, haircuts, etc.) after we ran into each other at a bar. I assure you it has nothing to do with the gentleman I was with; he's just a friend. But it does have everything to do with the gentleman YOU were with, aka the guy who used to deal drugs to me. Not only is he sketchy as all hell, but he's fucking obnoxious. While I do believe in being friends with exes, I do not believe in being friends with ex–drug dealers. Sorry.