“You know if you bought a practical, fuel-efficient vehicle, instead of a metallic warhorse, we probably wouldn’t be circling around this place all day,” Sean said. “We can’t all be enviro-Nazis like you, Sean.” said James. “Some of us have manly desires,”. “Nazi? I’m not the one driving a Panzer tank through a parking garage, Jamie,” Sean replied. “What you do with your truck, is your business, but tell me, does she let you stick it in the tailpipe, or do you just blow your money on her and get nothing in return?”. “Shut the fu….,”.
Sean cut off James. “Holy shit. It’s a miracle! We found a space for this monstrosity. Alert the Vatican, I think we have a valid claim here,”. “Funny. I have something massive and powerful to show off, but I don’t see your swinging anything, bro,”. Sean responded in typical Sean fashion, “I would parade around in a military vehicle to make people feel like I had a Louisville Slugger between my legs, if I was packing a mini-bat too. Besides. I’m a grower, not a show’er,”.
As they approached the gargantuan superstore, Sean looked at James as if to say, I hate you, but you’re brother.
“What do we need for your place anyway, Jamie?,”. “Marble bathroom tiles, a rich mahogny credenza, and a classy oak bedroom set. Can you remember all that, chief?,”. “I’ll get the credenza and the tiles. You get the the bedroom shit, I have no desire to walk in on your sex swings and fucking-machine,”.
Sean and James split off to go on individual journeys. Little did they know they, they wouldn’t see each other for decades.
To be continued….