I hadn’t seen him in a long time. And it still wasn’t long enough.
He asked how I was. I told him, “Good.” I explained, among a few other things, how I was still going to the gym most days.
“You still taking vitamins?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“Vitamins are bullshit,” he said. “Any decent study proves it. They don’t do anything more than a normal diet does.”
“Yeah. I know. You’ve told me that.”
“You don’t believe it?”
“Sure. I believe it. Why not?” I said.
“Then why are you still taking vitamins?”
“Cause I don’t care that much,” I said. “A bottle costs me less than sitting at the bar for an hour. And I’m not sure they do much harm.”
“But they’re nonsense.”
“Okay,” I said.
“You’re okay with being stupid? You’re okay with being that gullible?”
“In this regard, yes,” I said. “Completely.”
“Well, I don’t understand it,” he said.
I decided to change the subject.
“So what’s new with you?” I asked. “You’re still deep into Buddhism?”
“Yeah. It’s about all I think about. I still spend hours and hours speaking with The Goddess Green Tara.”
“What do you discuss with her?”
“Spirituality. She gives me spiritual guidance,” he said.
I wanted to ask if she ever guided him on how to move out of his mother’s house. Or get a job that made him any money. Or ever advised him to save money. Or how he might attract a woman. Or make friends. Or make him a more interesting person than one who did little more than pray to a green goddess day and night.
“You should try Buddhism,” he said. “I think it might help you too.”
“I think I’ll pass,” I said.
“I’m not prejudiced,” he said. “Maybe Jesus would work better for you.”
“Nah,” I said. “Think I’ll stick with the vitamins.”
“But vitamins are stupid,” he said.
“Yeah. I know,” I said. “But they help keep me in the bars and the gym.”
“There’s nothing spiritual or enlightening in hanging out in bars or going to the gym,” he said.
“Yeah. And thank God or Green Tara for that,” I said.