I went on my first date when I was 11. His name was Malcolm and we ate dinner at the Greenery ( this fancy old people restaurant) with his mother and then we caught John Denver in concert. His mom was nice enough to let us hold hands during the show. Its rare that I see her to this day that she doesn’t bring up the fact that I finished Malcolm’s plate and ordered the filet. ( If I wasn’t a fat kid it probably wouldn’t be annoying).

He was pretty well supposed to be my first kiss, but that didn’t end up working out. We went to middle school together during my brief foray into private school…and I went back to public school, and anyway he got shipped off to boarding school. I didn’t see him again until years later when I waited tables at the Depot and we were about 18 and he was in town from college and stopped in to say hi.

So I see his mom a lot b/c she is a volunteer for or on the board of about everything. And she mentioned a little while ago that he moved back with his wife and 2 kids and even tho he knocked that girl up everyone was real happy that they were home and he seemed to be doing a lot “better”, and I should really give him a call. And I see his dad all over the place and he's the coolest nicest dad in the world, and he brags that Malcolm is doing whatever and how cute the babies are and I really should give him a call.

And because I’m a lazy fuckhead who doesn’t need anymore married friends I never bother to call b/c it might interrupt 1 minute of Law and Order.

And anyway I’m going to his funeral today. He went out to his dad’s cabin in Nantahalia ( his dad’s a surgeon and I’ll never forget cleaning fish out there while his dad muttered something about how cleaning fish is not far off from surgery, but humans stink more when you cut them open) which was the coolest place in the world and blew his head off.