I used to antagonise him on purpose, pick bad fights with him over miniscule details. I would make a ridiculous but brilliant point then think “HA! That showed the prick!”
I have no doubt in my mind that the scumbag antagonised me on purpose too and thought the exact same things.
We would argue about topics like the deriving ingredients in certain booze, junipers in gin and hops in beer and so on. We could find absolutely anything to bicker about like a pair of old bitches at a coffee morning.
Sometimes it was more playful. I would reply to perfectly reasonable proposals with something like “a caterpillar is eating your hat”. Those moments I felt cruel but it was just too much fun to see him shake his head and say “oh man, oh man”.
The poor fucker was so often trying to make decent conversation but he caught me in those awful booze soaked days so I would blast him back to his own thoughts.
Then again, he got me good too. He could always shame me the same as I could shame him and I kind of liked that I had someone to fence with. Christ, we had to do something to break up those dull evenings at the flat listening to all the fucking self lovers and ego stokers.
I could pick up the phone and call him right now. I won’t, that would make him so smug.
“Oh hi. It’s you is it? Erm, well I am kind of busy right now…” He would lie, the worm.
Don’t get me wrong, beneath all of the bile and scorchers there is a pure companionship. If we scrape off the protective crust hard and long enough we always find a river of brilliant ideas. We even plan to write a screenplay about them, which can only mean that we do like each other. Or does it?
Anyway, it will be called “Look What We Did Now” and no one apart from us will like it.