“Yeah. They don’t mess around. Fast cars, parties, drugs, and girls.” She leans in close. “I hear they share women.” This bit of news is far more interesting than her dear friend Patricia’s boating accident last year, or the fate of her eleven-year-old cocker spaniel. “Really?” She leans in even closer. “I hear they smoke the weed.” I can’t help my giggle. “That wacky tobacky, huh?”
