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Got a text today from a friend I consider a brother...the text said "GOODBAR is dead" and that's it. My little group of friends...we are all fucked up. So, I wasn't sure if he was playing around or not, so I called him. He was crying...and that just isn't like him...AT ALL...for reasons only those who know him well can say.
Goodbar is a nickname for someone that was a part of OUR group. There were four of us, four of us that wanted like hell to open a tattoo shop together. He would be the piercer, my bro and Goodbar's bro the tattoo artists, and me the custom artist, wallflower, and eventual tattoo artist. We all worked in a shop together for about a year...became pretty damned close. We four were the ones that were shit on by the owners, other artists, other persons in the shop. We had something to prove together, something to take care of...
When I spoke to my bro's ol' lady, she said they are thinking it's suicide. And, I haven't cried. I don't know how to feel about it. Especially if it is suicide. He was always so happy. The first thing he said to me when we met was, "hey, sexy lady." It caught me off guard, and I am a blusher when embarassed so I turned beet red, and he added, "that red tint makes you even sexier." To that, I burst out laughing...he said, "If I make you laugh, good deal...that's what I'm here for, 'cause I can't stand to see people sad..." And he always went around saying "ASK ME ABOUT MY WEINER!!!" to complete strangers to get tattoo business or to get laid (and it worked for him). He even did car runs, and he was a big mofo...about 6 feet tall, and 400 pounds...talk about dints in the hood, but shit...it cracked us up!
I don't get it. I'm not sure if I'm in shock...everyone else is torn about it, crying hysterically. Granted I am not as close to him as the others, but I should feel something because he was a part of our little fucked up family...and, I am one that cries often about lesser things...
Confused, I know I am...I don't know if or when it'll hit me. Mr. Goodbar was a cool mother fucker. I cared about him. He was very nice to me, and one of the few guys I could kick it with and trust.
The plans for the shop...not sure if they'll happen or not now...it was the four of us...not the three...I'm not sure how to take that either...
EDIT: It was a heart attack...he was 25 years old.
