with apologies to mickey spillane

The scene: Two men lay in bed, the morning after smoking cigarettes and cavorting with dangerous, boozy showgirls. The sun rises bringing shattered light to rumpled sheets. A cat cleans itself at the foot of the bed. The wood floor is littered with a torn tabloid, a shot glass being sniffed by a second cat, an unravelled sweater, a pair of boxers, two shoes placed thoughtfully together as if an invisible man stood in them, and two black socks thrown haphazardly apart.

The phone rings.

One of the men bolts upright and makes his way to the phone with one eye closed, the other searching. The other man remains sleeping.

Man #1: Mm. Hello?

A woman’s voice: Get up.

Man #1: What time is it?

Voice: Get the coffee ready. We’re coming over.

Man #1: (emphatically) You’re kidding!

(a beat)

Man #1: We’ll call you when we’re ready.

The other man is awake and looking alarmed.

Man #2: What is it? Is everyone okay? What happened?

Man #1: Who wakes up at 8:00 on a Sunday morning?

Man #2: I thought someone was dead.

Man #1: I wish I was, and your sister is insane.

A lone saxophone plays. A cat hacks up a hairball on a white shag rug.

So, this is how our Sunday started. I never fully recovered from that rude awakening. Jerry’s sister and brother-in-law came to town over the weekend. I spent most of the day Sunday and Monday recovering from whatever someone slipped in my water Saturday night. I’ll share some pictures.

dwayne rodin

Brother-In-Law provides a manly head for a Rodin

three lay down

Brother-In-Law, Sister-In-Law, and me. This is the position I wanted to be in all day.

zaha hadid in three

Brother-In-Law, Sister-In-Law, and Jerry. Zaha Hadid provides a place to relax.

in conversation

This is not staged.

bridge

Neither is this.

getting chummy

I molest bronze.