The other day, the Boss said something about going to a fortieth year high school reunion.
“Any babes gonna be there, Boss?”
“I suppose. Is that all you think about?”
”That ‘n’ your filet mignon.”
“Chew, I remember takin’ you to your first rescue class reunion…”
“How could I forget?”
“Why the sad face?”
“Mi-shu wasn’t there.”
“Now tell me again, was the Shih Tzu the fortieth or four hundredth? I remember them by their breed, not the names. Only way, sorry.”
“Boss, you remember the names of
yours.”
“Not so many as you. Who was your favorite, Chew? I bet the one you don’t talk about.”
“Boss, you always so spot on? Ever give a guy a break? I’m a dog, remember?”
“You remember, Chew— and won’t tell.”
I whispered it to myself. Like syrup on the tongue. I slipped up and howled it out all lonesome like: “Chlooooo-eeeeeee.”
“Pretty name. Alone, it sounds like enough description.”
“Yours, Boss?” Couldn’t drop the code of Buds-for-Life here and give him a wide pass from the close truth. Not the Boss.
“You know people are reading this.”
“Pussy.”
“Chewey! Dammit! We’re just talkin’ here.”
“Here, kitty, kitty…”
The Boss got all stirred up like he’d just spilt beer on his Sunday shirt. “And I’m listenin’. Out with it!”
“I don’t know, Chew. It’s not like that. Not so easy. There was the girl that made me notice girls. I knew right then and there what eyes were really for. But there’s also one that was my best friend in another universe. Then the one that first kissed me, I mean really kissed me. Then, well, you know.”
“Pick.”
“Never.”
