Dear Angelo,

How do you know who your friends are?

Signed, Chill

Dear Chill,

I was on a popular gay beach recently. I was struck by a particular group of friends that were having a gay ole time. They were all young, gorgeous, and seemed happy together. It seemed like they were all very close and, judging from the number of visitors to their blanket, quite popular. It would be easy for anyone to feel a little envious of their pack.

Suddenly, one of them dropped to the beach sand and started to projectile vomit. His eyes bulged out and rolled wildly. Then he started convulsing. I was stunned when none of his "friends" did anything. They just stood by and watched. In fact, several of them left the area, pretending not to know him. I was aghast when I overheard some of their heartless comments like: "It's hard to feel sorry for him. It's happened to many times. He knows better." "This is soooo embarrassing. I don't want to be seen around this." And with laughter, "This beats Ugly Betty." Not a single one of them came to his aid or even comforted him. I was astonished by their reactions.

Deducing it was an overdose of the drug G, I (a total stranger) went over there, placed my hand on his head, looked into his eyes, and told him he was going to be okay. He held onto me for dear life and didn't take his eyes off of mine. He was terrified.

He made it okay.

But my point is that your real friends are the one's that are there for you at three in the morning when the chips are down.

All The Best, Angelo.

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