a damn, travelling shotgun.
“Thanks for helping me out.” Sloan released the sweaty beast of a man as Mike dug his hand inside the half ripped pocket of his jeans to pull out a set of keys to his big gray truck parked out in the long driveway.
“You never have to thank me. That’s what friends do. You can repay me though.” A rascally smile lined the man’s face.
“I’m afraid to ask how…” Sloan crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at the guy, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“I wanna go out this weekend. No more avoiding the crowd shit, Sloan. It’s time you start living again, just like you promised.”
“Start living again? I’ve got a pulse.” He smirked as he put two fingers up to the side of his throat.
“Did you know that Maxim has fantastic nightlife?”
“Who are you? The president of the Maxim tourist society? You got a bunch of brochures shoved in your pocket there showin’ fly fishing photos and a list of museums? Fantastic nightlife!” He rolled his eyes. “How in the hell would you know? You haven’t been here in over ten years, said it yourself, and that was you just driving through.”
“Don’t you writers ever read?” The man quipped. “Maybe you’ve got that biblephobia shit, too.”
“ Bib liophobia! I’m not afraid of Bibles! Geesh! I’m not going to melt if you start quoting the Book of Exodus.”
“Anyway, I looked it up online.” Mike crossed his arms over his gut and threw him a smug look.
“You looked it up online? I thought you said the only thing the Internet was good for was free porn, sending emails, and illegal online gambling.”
“Stop interrupting me. Let’s get back to the topic you tried to steer off of.”
“What topic? Hey, you want some cake?”
“Nice try, I happen to know you don’t have any cake. Look, you need to go out and play, Sloan… have some fun. Maybe you can run into something pretty, tell ’em you’re famous and finally start getting laid again.”
“How do you know I haven’t been getting laid? You the ‘Give ’er the Bone Police, too?”
“You ain’t been getting laid, Mack!” Mike cracked up so hard, his face turned beet red as a tiny vein bulged in the center of his forehead. “You wouldn’t be so grumpy if you were, that’s for damn sure.”
“Ha!” Sloan vehemently shook his head. “And stop callin’ me Mack, you know I hate that. Sex though, huh? I get plenty of loving, thank you very much.”
“Really? What’s her name?”
“Palmetta.”
“Your right hand does look much larger than your left,” Mike teased.
“Yeah, and she’s a real beaut!” He waved his fingers about as if warming them up before playing the piano. “Palmetta is the palm that gives me no qualms! No nagging. No lying. Quick, what rhymes with qualms?” He snapped his fingers.
“Vietnam.”
“No, that doesn’t work. Anyway, she doesn’t want alimony, and that’s no bologna. This hand brings me money and my days are sunny. She’s a dream come true, got lotion for two!”
“Bunch of excuses. Look, all jokes aside.” The man’s smile slowly melted from his expression, causing Sloan to do the same. “When ya get done jollyin’ yourself, you still aren’t happy.”
“Now you’re the happiness police, too! Wow! I never knew you wore so many hats on that big ass head of yours, Mike. President and chief of police of smiles and giggles… Boy, I sure am lucky to have a friend like you. It’s good to have hook ups with all of these high connections. How does it feel to be such an expert, sought after by intellectuals from all over the world petitioning for your knowledge?”
“You’re a miserable bastard, you know that?” Mike chuckled. “Anyways, my comment still stands. Ya hand can’t bring you peace of mind.” He waved his own around as if it were some catcher’s mitt.
“Dozing off brings me peace of mind, and since I’m asleep right afterward, that’s plenty damn happy to
“Thanks for helping me out.” Sloan released the sweaty beast of a man as Mike dug his hand inside the half ripped pocket of his jeans to pull out a set of keys to his big gray truck parked out in the long driveway.
“You never have to thank me. That’s what friends do. You can repay me though.” A rascally smile lined the man’s face.
“I’m afraid to ask how…” Sloan crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at the guy, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“I wanna go out this weekend. No more avoiding the crowd shit, Sloan. It’s time you start living again, just like you promised.”
“Start living again? I’ve got a pulse.” He smirked as he put two fingers up to the side of his throat.
“Did you know that Maxim has fantastic nightlife?”
“Who are you? The president of the Maxim tourist society? You got a bunch of brochures shoved in your pocket there showin’ fly fishing photos and a list of museums? Fantastic nightlife!” He rolled his eyes. “How in the hell would you know? You haven’t been here in over ten years, said it yourself, and that was you just driving through.”
“Don’t you writers ever read?” The man quipped. “Maybe you’ve got that biblephobia shit, too.”
“ Bib liophobia! I’m not afraid of Bibles! Geesh! I’m not going to melt if you start quoting the Book of Exodus.”
“Anyway, I looked it up online.” Mike crossed his arms over his gut and threw him a smug look.
“You looked it up online? I thought you said the only thing the Internet was good for was free porn, sending emails, and illegal online gambling.”
“Stop interrupting me. Let’s get back to the topic you tried to steer off of.”
“What topic? Hey, you want some cake?”
“Nice try, I happen to know you don’t have any cake. Look, you need to go out and play, Sloan… have some fun. Maybe you can run into something pretty, tell ’em you’re famous and finally start getting laid again.”
“How do you know I haven’t been getting laid? You the ‘Give ’er the Bone Police, too?”
“You ain’t been getting laid, Mack!” Mike cracked up so hard, his face turned beet red as a tiny vein bulged in the center of his forehead. “You wouldn’t be so grumpy if you were, that’s for damn sure.”
“Ha!” Sloan vehemently shook his head. “And stop callin’ me Mack, you know I hate that. Sex though, huh? I get plenty of loving, thank you very much.”
“Really? What’s her name?”
“Palmetta.”
“Your right hand does look much larger than your left,” Mike teased.
“Yeah, and she’s a real beaut!” He waved his fingers about as if warming them up before playing the piano. “Palmetta is the palm that gives me no qualms! No nagging. No lying. Quick, what rhymes with qualms?” He snapped his fingers.
“Vietnam.”
“No, that doesn’t work. Anyway, she doesn’t want alimony, and that’s no bologna. This hand brings me money and my days are sunny. She’s a dream come true, got lotion for two!”
“Bunch of excuses. Look, all jokes aside.” The man’s smile slowly melted from his expression, causing Sloan to do the same. “When ya get done jollyin’ yourself, you still aren’t happy.”
“Now you’re the happiness police, too! Wow! I never knew you wore so many hats on that big ass head of yours, Mike. President and chief of police of smiles and giggles… Boy, I sure am lucky to have a friend like you. It’s good to have hook ups with all of these high connections. How does it feel to be such an expert, sought after by intellectuals from all over the world petitioning for your knowledge?”
“You’re a miserable bastard, you know that?” Mike chuckled. “Anyways, my comment still stands. Ya hand can’t bring you peace of mind.” He waved his own around as if it were some catcher’s mitt.
“Dozing off brings me peace of mind, and since I’m asleep right afterward, that’s plenty damn happy to
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