True friends–the kind who stick by you in good times and bad, especially during the bad times, the challenging times–are rare, and it’s a lucky woman or man who can claim to have such friends.
Carl was a lucky man; he had such friends. They had proven it these past few weeks, ever since he had grown the tail. They still hung out, still treated him like the same Carl he’d always been. They didn’t even stare.
And it wasn’t just any old tail. Carl had grown a leathery stegosaurus tail, complete with four bony spikes sticking out of the end of it. He had even accidentally gored Johnny with it during one of their weekly flag football games; he was inconsolable over it. But do you know what Johnny said when Carl went to visit him in the hospital? “It’s all good–it’s flag football. It gets a little rough sometimes. No harm, no foul, dude.”
Can you believe it? THAT is a friend.
Yes, no doubt about it: Carl was a lucky, stegosaurus tail-owning freak of a man.