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Too old to date, not too late to Peyote

MIKE [sad face]: “Dude, where’d my thirties go?”
TOM [judgemental face]: “Don’t be so narcissistic.”
MIKE: “What? I’m not. Okay, maybe a bit — but seriously, where the fuck did the last decade go? It just fucking flew by!”
TOM: “Yeah, well, that’s life. Get used to it.”
MIKE: “I’m trying to, but it keeps shifting the goal posts. I don’t understand it.”
TOM: “You’re not meant to understand it. There isn’t really anything to understand.”
MIKE: “That’s bullshit and you know it.”
TOM: “No bro, that’s the truth. Fucking deal with it.”
MIKE: “I know what you are trying to say — there’s no meaning in life. But that’s fucking bullshit, okay, and I’m not going to stand around and listen to you spout such crap!”
TOM: “Sure bro, suit yourself. But that ain’t going to change anything. Your life isn’t going to suddenly fill with meaning.”
MIKE: “My life has meaning; but that doesn’t mean that I still can’t be shocked that I am getting older.”
TOM: “Sure, whatevs . . . [sniffs] . . . I don’t care, and the universe doesn’t care, so whatever.”
MIKE [changing the subject]: “Well, do you know what?”
TOM: “No, what?”
MIKE: “When I was eighteen, I wrote to this organisation called ‘The Peyote Way Church of God’ in Arizona. I was curious why they were allowed to take peyote, when it was considered to be an illegal drug. They wrote back and told me that it was legal as it was part of their religious ceremony — but only for them, and the Native American Church.”
TOM: “Yeah? And what’s your point?”
MIKE: “There is none — see, how does that feel?”
TOM: “Haha! Touche!”
MIKE: [pausing] “Well, there is a bit of a point, actually. They called me Brother Mike in the letter . . . and it was a handwritten letter. And now that seems to impress me so much more than most things do; that they took the time to write me a letter, stick it in an envelope, and send it off to me on the other side of the world.”
TOM: “I guess that’s impressive. If you are into that sort of thing.”
MIKE: “Yeah I am. And you know what?
TOM: “No, what?”
MIKE: “They also invited me to come visit them some time. And I might just do that. Seeing that my life has no meaning, and the universe has no meaning, then maybe that’s just the thing I should be doing.
TOM: “Okay, great. Let me know how that works out for you.”
MIKE: “I will — I’ll send you a postcard.”
TOM: “Okay, you do that. I’ll be waiting.”

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