Bro

‘Yo. Are you okay to talk?’

It’s my bro.

‘Yeah, man,’ I say. ‘But you sound like you’re down a coal mine. Are you on speakerphone? Because you know I might say cunt a lot..?’

I have to verify this every time I speak to him, after what happened a few years ago, when he called me from the car, and neglected to tell me he had a vehicle full of relatives.

‘Haha, yeah,’ he says, ‘let me try SKYPE. Call you back.’

‘Okay.’

...

‘That better?’ he asks.

‘Yeah.’

‘So, what’s up bro? Been a while.’

‘I know. Hey - how’s the hurricane?’

‘Meh. The mayor feels like an asshole because of all the apocalyptic warnings he gave.’

‘Well, he was in a no-win situation, wasn’t he?’

‘Exactly. If millions of people got killed, his ass would be on the line. Now that nothing happened, they’re saying he cried wolf.’

‘Well, it was hardly his fault. So what did you do?’

‘I drove over to George’s house, and we shotgunned beers til three in the morning.’

‘Shotgunned? What’s that?’

‘It’s when you punch a hole in the bottom of the can, so when you drink through the regular hole, it pours straight down your throat.’

‘You mean there’s no glug?’

‘Yep, no glug. So you can get it down in one go. So we got drunk, and practised taking apart the AK and putting it back together.’

‘Jesus, you still have the AK?’

‘Yeah, baby. I got guns all over the house.’

‘I thought your mom told you to get rid of it?’

‘I read her the First Amendment, baby.’

‘And she was okay with that?’

‘No choice.’

‘So how much did you drink?’

‘Er...four beers and a bottle of wine. I took the AK in case of looters.’

‘Ha, you should have been here a couple of weeks ago..!’

‘Oh yeah, I heard you had riots n’ shit. How was that?’

‘It was pathetic. It wasn’t political rioting. They were rioting for TVs and snacks.’

‘You’re shitting me.’

‘Yeah, they weren’t even poor. One guy was a school teacher. Another was a bank manager. The oldest was eighty-five!’

‘Oh shit, that’s funny!’

‘I think some pundit on TV referred to it as the ‘Because I’m Worth It’ riots. They were even scheduled on the internet, and people were organizing car sharing and stuff. It was like, You can go home at four thirty today, as after that, there will be rioting.’

‘Haha. Unbelievable.’

‘Yeah, but get this: They jailed a guy for four years because he stole a white t-shirt from the Armani shop, after the riot had left. He felt guilty, handed himself in, and they still jailed him for four years!’

‘No shit!’

‘Yeah, and one girl stole a Pepsi got four years, and so did two schmucks who jokingly put up a riot event page on Facebook. And nobody turned up to riot! There was no riot where they lived..!’

‘Ohh, fuck! Jesus. That’s harsh..!’

‘It’s because of the Olympics next year. Nobody has said anything to this effect, but I think the rioters played into the government’s hands. They got it out of the way a year in advance, and now no-one will dare to do anything during the Olympics. They’ve all been used to set an example, so there won’t be any protests or civil uprisings.’

‘Exactly.’

‘Yeah. Anyway, so how’s things?’

A pause.

‘Well...there’s some problems with my employer’.

‘Oh shit.’ Not again.

‘Yeah. I’ve been told I can resign.’

‘What? You’re kidding me.’

‘Yeah.’

‘The bastards. I'm sorry to hear that.’

‘Yeah. And I billed more hours than any other guy there.’

‘Shit.’

‘Yeah, so what with that, and getting testicular cancer, it’s been a fucking helluva time. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s been the worst few weeks of my life. Which is why you haven’t heard from me.’

‘Oh, okay. Wait, back up – you’ve got ball cancer?!’

‘I thought I had. I found a lump on my testicles.’

‘What happened?’

‘I had it checked – it wasn’t malignant.’

‘I never check mine.’

‘You should, man.’

‘I kinda think that’s what a girlfriend’s for. They’re always down there, they should be having a look around, doing inspections. Running a battery of tests. It's part of their job.’

‘I hear that.’

‘So what did they say?’

 ‘It’s fine. It was just the thing at the top of the ball, the – I can’t remember what it’s called. And there’s no history of ball problems in the family, either. Well, there’s been a few inflammations. The odd swelling. Maybe a blockage. But no actual tumours.’

‘That’s good.’

‘Yeah. Talking of girlfriends, how’s your girl?’

‘Great. How’s yours?’

‘Great.’

‘Do you get to see her much, what with all your travelling for work?’

‘We get together on weekends. It’s great because my parents are away six months a year. So we get together and fuck in every room in the house. Well, unless there’s a hurricane, and she can’t get here. So yeah, on top of all I’ve been through, no pussy this weekend.’

‘Bummer.’

‘In fact, get this: On the same day I found the lump on my testicle, I failed my accountancy exam.’

‘Fuck, you’ve really had a time of it.’

‘In fact, that isn’t even the half of it. Let me think. Yeah, June 24^th, I’m asked to resign. June 30^th, I fail the accountancy exam – by one point. Same day, there’s a lump on my testicle. In July, I’m trying to dodge a goddamn New York City pothole, and smash into a stand-pipe, destroying two wheels on my car, which then gets towed away. In August I discover that the people who want to interview me for a job, only want to interview me during my vacation. Then, during my supposed vacation, I get called into my current job to save someone else’s ass. Then, while driving across Virginia, I’m tracked by police air support, who stop me for speeding, and hand me a charge of misdemeanour.’

‘Fucking hell.’

‘Yeah, so apart from being broke and unemployed, I’m now a criminal.’

‘Haha, that’s fucking funny!’

‘However, the lawyer guarantees that if I hand them a bogus excuse like ‘defective equipment’ or something, and pay 175 bucks into the system, I can get off, no problem.’

‘Cool. Nice one.’

‘Tell me about it. But I’m amazed I didn’t put a bullet in my brain. And I have plenty of guns and bullets around the house. So to top it all off there’s a hurricane, and I’m denied sex. Normally, all I do on a weekend is drink coffee, make linguine, and screw. But no, I’m denied even that simple human pleasure.’

Basically, if there’s a shit-storm, usually my bro is at the centre of it. Generally, he’s an affable, unassuming, happy-go-lucky kinda guy, and I think a lot of people maybe forget he’s a grown man, who knows what he’s doing. Even I make that mistake, and no matter how much aggro he’s caused me in the past, at some point, I think people should treat him like a responsible adult, and cut him some slack.

‘So what are you going to do for the rest of the weekend?’ I ask.

‘There’s a bunch of asshole Italians across the road, having a party. They’re always getting rowdy, and I wanna keep an eye on them. You remember the big balcony outside our sister’s old room?’

‘Yeah?’

‘I like to go up there, drink beer, and sit in the dark with my rifle. I’ll be waiting for one of those fuckers to step on our lawn.’