I’ve always been really good at making friends with extremely interesting people, but terrible with normal people.

My best friends, over the years:

• a guy who travels the country working as a chef for anywhere from 3 months to a year
• a professional ontologist (literally it’s in his title, he works at Amazon and makes $200k)
• a guy who got laid off by an airline after 9/11 and used his flight benefits to build a solo business importing crap from Turkey
• an unmarried gay couple who are both schizophrenic (neither one can work so they’re poor as shit), one is a guitarist and the other is a bassist and they’re amazing
• a mathematician who grew up in poverty and now works in biotech and talks more to his plants than any humans
• a philosophy professor who somehow manages to make the dullest philosophical ideas sound like the shadows between the petals of a flower
• a guy who takes old furniture from an abandoned IBM office park and sells it to Japanese people online (it’s all Herman Miller shit) and makes music from outer space
• a former protege of a famous experimental filmmaker who opened a mirage clothing store in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere
• a high school art teacher who is objectively the most inspired and inspiring person I’ve ever met in my life (also he knows kung fu)
• a seemingly endless stream of freaks, weirdos, and rejects from the rooms of AA (i thought i was an alcoholic/drug addict for a long time, turns out I was just autistic) — former junkies, prostitutes, homeless derelicts, and (former!) absolute monsters…

I’ve had extremely good luck, they’re very cool.