That's how I became friends with Rick. He worked at a nearby company. We never saw each other sober, and mostly we waited at the bathroom together. Rick worked at a defense company nearby.
One time neither of our coworkers showed up, and we got to talking.
Halfway through the conversation, Rick mentioned something very strange, and I asked him about it.
"Oh, I'm a nuclear bomb," he said.
Then I noticed it. Rick was made of metal, not flesh. He was shaped like a tapering cylinder. He had a serial number and a U.S. flag on his side, and had no limbs. I just hadn't really registered it before, and, like I said, I never saw him when I was sober.
Right after he mentioned it, he said how much he appreciated that I never asked him a lot of tiresome questions about being a bomb. I suddenly had a swarm of questions I wanted to ask, but of course I just couldn't bring myself to do it.
So we talked about sports instead.