45. Allen. From the very first time we met, it was clear to both of us that we would have to tolerate each other for you. He thought I was polluting you with my liberally inclined lifestyle, and I thought that he was too uptight. I will admit, my mentioning of how much I hated organized sports may have not been the best move on my part, but that guy wouldn’t shut up about the NFL. “Tom Brady is clearly the best quarterback of the century.” And he kept pressing Brady, as if we kept disagreeing with him. We got it. Tom was a good quarterback. Allen was just so arrogant and annoying. I’m surprised that you would even befriend someone like that, even if it did happen back when he wasn’t a total dick. That’s the thing I hate most about childhood friendships: you don’t know any better. Character doesn’t matter—it’s just whether or not you like playing with the person. You liked Allen. You still do like Allen. I’ll never understand it. If I were trapped in a room with a gun, Allen, and two bullets, I’d shoot myself twice just to make sure I was dead and wouldn’t have to deal with him.