talked to big kev tonight after i hadn’t heard from him. wondered what was going on in big d, how the job was going, when he was going to be free to hang out. before i go any farther, here’s a few glimpses of exactly what kind of situation i’m dealing with down here:
so, previously today, went swimming, went out for tex-mex (easily the best tex-mex i’ve ever had. seriously, anamia’s in the north suburbs of dallas … superb), had a few beers, walking the dog … another day in paradise. i get home and give big kev a call:
big kev: “hello?”
lil’ kev: “big kev!”
b: “yeah?”
l: “it’s me, man, lil’ kev! how are you doing?”
b: “i am not doing good, man.”
l: “what’s up man? is it work? are you sick?”
b: “I’ve got pneumonia.”
l: “pneumonia?”
b: “yeah, i just got back from the doctors. i’ve got, like, four prescriptions and i’ve got pneumonia.”
big kev’s been in dallas for less then 24 hours, he’s got pneumonia. fucking jack ass …
in all seriousness, pneumonia can kill ya. i informed big kev of that, cause he’s old rural pennsylvania country boy stock and, even though he takes pictures with the fancy people in los scandalous and philly and nyc, he’s still that particular kind of hick who will literally work himself to death. he says he’s gotta lay low for two days, doctor’s orders, although he mentioned he had to go to the airport tomorrow and do this that and the other thing on monday … fucking jack ass.
so now i’m on triage. my duties for the next 48 hours involve keeping big kev’s stupid ass from doing anything to jeopardize his life. and once i determined that pneumonia was not contagious, i was completely motivated to lend my services to this venture.
i’m calling him in the morning … first of all, i am not letting him drive to the airport under any circumstances. maybe go hang out with him at his hotel and watch a movie or something. throw some tequila shots back and dip into those narcs. kidding of course … this is a candy striper kind of session (no hand jobs) and it’s all business from here on out.
you know, you leave your home, you set out on a new adventure, you try to carve out a new landscape for yourself, make a fresh start, and inevitably, you’re back to saving lives. i can’t escape it … some of us are just born healers. i don’t know why i ever try to fight it. i have been touched. clearly. i have. really, i’ve been touched. hard in some places, too. i’ve got the scars to prove it. and bruises! full of fucking bruises …
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