Normally, when somebody quits their favorite drugs, they move on to something harder. Or sometimes they get clean entirely and turn into preaching tyros, shouting from the rooftop, gathering all their flock in their wake to tour the Promised Land. Or they turn into flesh zombies, getting their high from friction and fluids. But Bob’s legit, and he’s not pushing anything. He’s not looking at me like he sees a tasty treat. He’s just quit it and not making a big deal of it. And, he’s not filled with fire ants like I am. So now I’m sort of curious what he’s got going on.