Hey man. What up 15:18 (double blue checkmark)
Yo 15:18 (double blue checkmark)
Yo Phil 15:18 (double blue checkmark)
What ol’ Phillip Bookman Jr. up to tonite?? 15:20 (double blue checkmark)
Cmon man 15:21 (double blue checkmark)
That’s allright man. I know you’re pissed. I knew you’d be. So what man? Don’t they just Fed Ex the hardware home to you if you don’t show up? X)))) So did you enjoy the show via live stream from the comfort of your home? They dish out the Whistlepig? Monkey Shoulder? What were the hors d’oeuvres? Any hardbodies? Tell me I missed something! X)))) 15:22 (double blue checkmark)
Guess not!!! X)))) 15:23 (double blue checkmark)
Tell you what. Be mad. It’s all good. I got no regrets. Mammoth of a hangover tho. Slept like 5 hours, man. Lying in bed as we speak. Guess where I was as you were ogling the old ladies via live streaming from the comfort of your home. As you systematically stuffed your mouth tranced-out in your living room, eyes glued to the screen, with Stuffed Piquillo Peppers with Goat Cheese, Jamon Serrano with Olives and Oranges, and Spicy Tuna Tartare? Well, took a detour. I did make it to my room at the airport Best Western you booked for me. Gee thanks. Thanks too for that BOMB Chevy Spark you got me. But I figured. The house is ON THE WAY to the Art center. So I figured. Why not drop in on the Sepulvedas while I’m here. I mean it’s ON THE WAY 15:27 (double blue checkmark)
Ok let’s go full disclosure here. I crashed in on em at around 10. So technically I could have made it to the awards. But let’s be honest. Went down to the bar for a Patron at about 6. Met this guy Papo and his wife. They’re visiting from Guatemala. Lovely couple. Anyway. Time flew. Shots flew. Next thing I know it’s 9 and I think. Maybe I can still at least catch the tail end of the gala thing and ogle some hot bods and gobble some cold. Catch the hardware or piece of glass right there. Hors d’oeuvres. Savor some of that Monkey they dishing out. Spent the next hour or so just driving around Central City instead 15:35 (double blue checkmark)
Listening to Free Bird by Lynyrd Skynyrd. 15:56 (double blue checkmark)
So. You won’t believe this. I get to the house. Parked my bomb Spark – thanks again - right behind this black 2020 Chevy Suburban. Windows down. Empty. 90’s techno blasting away. WTF? Karl came out to meet me, all smiles as usual. Karl can’t feign his surprise at my presence, man. Big hug. Walk back toward the house. He talking. Can´t make out any words though. Cause of that plane flying over us right then. It’s as if someone pressed mute. You know. I just look back at him and nod every so often. We get to the house. Southeastern entrance. Walk around the courtyard past the Living Room to the Dining Room. Step in and damn. I mean DAMN. I mean, DAMN!! Turns out they’re not just up having dinner, the Sepulvedas. They got a visitor… This chick from the DAAP, Cincinnati, it turns out. Having dinner with them. Who’s purportedly doing a paper on the house. Believe that? I get there, they’re at the Dining Room eating fucking dessert. This chick’s a hot one man. Freaking 9.9. You know. Cause 10 don’t exist right? Wait. It does. It’s this chick. Hold on. 16:10 (double blue checkmark)
Got sick of thump-typing. At my laptop now. So yeah. Martita’s all like hi, she gets up to greet me, chick stays put, at her place at the table, just staring at me, head turned toward me, hands on the edge of the table, serious, alert, like kinda spoked. Kinda startled. Martita’s all hugs and kisses and welcome and what a pleasant surprise. She sits me across from her as Neto set my place with the china and cutlery and soon a steaming plate of all previous courses turned to one is in front of me. I delve in. It was kind of awkward though. No one formally introduced us two. I get up and offer my hand, introduce myself. She takes it. Says hi, back. Name’s, get this, Eriana. As in lake Erie, Eriana. This chick is like a point 16:13 (double blue checkmark)
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Pointier-nosed, fuller-lipped, copper-toned Emma Watson with a longer neck crossed with a pointier-nosed, fuller-lipped, copper-toned Jordana Brewster with a smaller waist. But this girl, as I later learn, runs for the U of C Bearcats, a senior. I mean runs as in she’s a track star. Seriously. She’s a track MVP over at Cincy. Was no surprise either, the legs freaking screamed it. Yell it out, to all points of the compass. Yell it out, Phil!! 16:15 (double blue checkmark)
What was she wearing? 16:15
You DOG!! Hahahahaha!!! There you are!! I knew that would get your attention!! What up?? 16:15 (double blue checkmark)
Damn, Phil. Anyway. Some sort of brown and white ‘pueblo revival’ cotton dress, pretty short, I later attested to, above mid-thigh. Real Native-American looking. The dress. Wide, low-cut square neck cleveage, above it a Bobby Schaefer 3-Strand Campo Frío green turquoise and sterling silver Native American charm bracelet if I’m not mistaken. Stood on some high ass sandals, too. Beige. Some black scorpions embroidered on it, too. 16:19 (double blue checkmark)
So I eat on, basically this sort of Pozole but far denser.. mix of corn chips mixed with Pueblo beans and ground meat mixed with lots of Picante and Cured Pepper Jack and Fried Guacamole and throw in Pimientos, Piki bread, the works and I swear chopped Sonoran Hot Dogs somewhere in there, and, Martita, she does most of the talking really. Sep just like savoring his Padron, you know? Smiling away? Now, sure this girl’s a looker, man, but… ah, Cat? Cat’s The Guiness World Record Prime Grade A No. 1 Conversationalist Master of The Universe Blabbermouth compared to this chick. I mean, that song by Run-D.M.C.? It’s about Cat. So I… try to spark a… convo. That’s how I learn she’s doing this paper for a class back at Cincy for, get this: José Oubrerie. Turns out that the ultra secretive, ultra reclusive Mr. and Mrs. Sep are warm enough, and tight enough with him to allow one of his students inside their home, and to do a paper about it no less. With only one condition: no pics, and… no vids. Hey, isn’t he emeritus at Knowlton at OSU? The hell’s he doing at Cincy. Anyway, the Seps already toured around the house, and she’s planning to leave as soon as dinner’s over. But even as she puts that last piece of Prickly-Pear-Ice-Cream-soaked Chocolate Tamale in her mouth, she still doesn’t know that I... like… designed the thing. Cracked me up. 16:34 (double blue checkmark)
Then, but then, you can always count on Martita to be Martita. Right? Out of nowhere she’s like, hey Eriana! By the way about that paper of yours, GUESS WHO’S THE ARCHITECT?? HE’S SITTING RIGHT THERE IN FRONT OF YOU!!! 16:36 (double blue checkmark)
She’s like, no way. Dude, for the first time I see a true smile on her face. Face lit up. Wide smile, bright eyes. Teeth. She’s like, SERIOUSLY?? I’m like, yeah. She’s like… wait you ready for this? She’s like you got to give me an interview! I’m like, an interview… So I lean toward the Seps and lift an eyebrow. Like, ok with you?? They’re like, go nuts. I say: OK. But, I say, but what about a subtle change of venue. I say that as a statement, not a question. She’s like, where? I say, right here, right here in the house, we’re not going anywhere. I say, well, not exactly in the house, actually. I say, you in? She nods immediately. Martita says, you guys go along. We’re turning in. House is all yours. Bro! I say, ok, I say, thanks you guys, much love, we just gotta hit the tequila cellar and the kitchen first. Alright? Supplies are needed. Right man?? 16:40 (double blue checkmark)
I know you’re there man. Nothing but blue check marks here.. I know you’re there man!! 16:41 (double blue checkmark)