Billy's nature was the sort that was utterly compromising, and while not necessarily accepting of other people's... "eccentricities," it was very hard to offend him. Billy just didn't get offended. Maybe it was because he didn't have a sister, or maybe it was because his ego was just the right size in just the right place, but even if Vince had stood there and then pretended not to have any idea what he was doing there to avoid the acquaintance, Billy still probably wouldn't have been offended.
It was only in music that Billy's definitive opinions remained his alone, and he didn't care who they offended or when or why. Those who worked with him came to accept the wild contrast, especially as South Portal grew more popular.
He grinned from his seat, which did a better job of holding him up into a strong L-shape than most factory options, and said, "If I'm your new girlfriend we both must be pretty pathetically desperate. Get in." The invitation wasn't necessary, clearly, but he gave it anyway. The car smelled like fresh orange peels--there must have been one of those scent cans under one of the seats. Other than the modifications and the wheel chair in the back, there wasn't any evidence of what would prevent Billy from driving just like everybody else. He had a clean blue t-shirt on and gray jeans, and he looked quite healthy, if not as tan as eighty percent of Southern Californians. There was a Dodgers cap on his head.