he said he knew there was trouble when he heard the bullhorns AND the chopper
he and i tried to figure out what we would do if we were the only two cops on the beach surrounded by drumming hippies
beating on bongos as the sun was setting and they wouldnt leave the beach even though now it was closed.
i said, “taze the fattest one!”
he said, “there’d be a riot”.
i was all, “50 hippies, 2 cops, if theres a riot its mostly them beating each other up, wheres the harm?”
we were headed to LAX, he was going to his soon to be brother in laws bachelor party out in the tropics
he wasnt happy about it.
maybe he always packs light, but for a 4 day trip he only had one suit bag and even that looked mostly empty
all that could be in there was one suit, some socks, some underwear, and some board shorts.
maybe a shirt.
probably not any toiletries.
he didn’t want to go. he said he liked the guy who was about to marry his sister, but the whole thing seemed inconvenient.
the bachelor party, not the wedding.
“i guess rich people often make their friends go to expensive islands where they dont know each other, but im not used to it.” he complained as he used Waze to tell me how to best get to the airport.
he was a little late.
i wanted to say things like OMG FIRST WORLD PROBLEMS but is it so wrong for the first world to have problems?
maybe bro didnt wanna go to some beautiful island this week.
maybe he has a life of his own that hes working on.
maybe hes like those hippies, in a groove, enjoying the sun kissing the pacific
digging being one with these others in the most simple human song:
the beat of a drum
in unison with the group.
maybe he just wanted to play a little more in his part of the beach.
we got there in time.
and when he got out i said, “i hope you make due.”