Ask Me Anything

"I'm an open book; ask me anything."
It's weird to lose a close friend at this point in life.
There are so many things it wasn't, and one echoing, painful thing it was.
"I'm an open book; ask me anything."
She lives life with no regrets, that one. Well, none she will admit to anyway.
I keep coming back to the same scab: I thought we were better friends than that. I don't understand her reaction to being caught on camera.
So. Open Book, here are my questions for you:
How long were you doing it?
Was it just her wallet?
What was the most you pulled at one time?
Did it make you feel better, leaving the small bills behind?
How many compartments did you check?
Did you enjoy it while it lasted?
Did it give you a thrill?
Did it make you sick inside that you got caught?
Do you have a drug problem?
Are you mentally ill?
Do you really think everyone else is stupid?


OB, I have news for you, honey: stealing cash from your boss's wallet isn't "losing your job;" you RAN SCREAMING from your job. You couldn't have worked harder to lose that job if you stripped naked in broad daylight and ran streaking in front of customers. At least then we would know you were just mentally ill, and you could go seek help

"I'm an open book; ask me anything."
Never mind. Hoping for honest answers out of such an accomplished liar is just a waste of time.