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Aug. 10th, 1996 12:00 amAugust 10, 1996
You know a guy’s—well, I don’t know what to call it—emotionally dedicated—when he cries at the thought of losing your friendship. He did. I listened to him cry and asked him what was wrong. He told me nothing; it was just a cold. That was on the phone. Then I learned what it had been. I can’t stand the sight or thought of a guy—much less that guy—in tears. He earned an immediate hug instead of the clobbering he probably richly deserved.
You know a guy’s—well, I don’t know what to call it—emotionally dedicated—when he cries at the thought of losing your friendship. He did. I listened to him cry and asked him what was wrong. He told me nothing; it was just a cold. That was on the phone. Then I learned what it had been. I can’t stand the sight or thought of a guy—much less that guy—in tears. He earned an immediate hug instead of the clobbering he probably richly deserved.
