I hate the ER. I never drink tequila. I don’t even remember what that knife fight was all about.

I remember breaking up with my girlfriend. I knew things weren’t going well, and she was unhappy for a long time. I was happy, but preemptive strike, you know? It’s better to be the dumper than the dumpee.

When first dating her, I told her on April Fool’s years ago that I didn’t think it was working out, I wasn’t happy, etc. She almost started crying right then. Boy was she mad when I said “April Fool’s!” I’m beginning to think I should have did it then..

So I drown my sorrows in the local bar, drinking tequila. I was telling the bartender my woes, and next thing I know I was getting stabbed.

The guy that stabbed me looked familiar though. Like he could have been a good friend, in another universe. I always hated the feeling of missed or lost friendships. Especially when they involve knives. What did I do to piss him off?

Can’t worry about that know. The doctor’s coming back in.