Alfie and I worked at a convenience store overnight together. I recall his face having a lot of makeup on it. There was a girl somewhere in her late teens or early twenties who would lift up her shirt and pull down the front of her jeans with her thumbs while my colleague wasn't looking to show me her belly. Those two got into fights and arguments sometimes for different reasons, and I'd try to show more concern for Alfie than the girl. Despite that, she soon became one of our close friends. We would make accommodations for one another when going out to eat, or go on adventures to the skatepark. I'll be quitting my job today. It was painful, but I enjoyed myself when it managed not to be. I'll miss my colleagues. We won't meet again anymore. They won't make me smile by singing into tongs anymore. They won't make me laugh by insulting the customers making lengthy orders unbeknownst to them anymore. I won't be able to say thank you to them when they help me anymore. I won't watch them skateboard and do drugs in the parking lot between orders anymore. I won't be called, "my pretty," by them anymore. It was necessary to quit though. I'm only one person, and I have too many other things I want to do. I'm trying to trust my family members to fund my needs. I hope I can. I hope they can.