I decide to invite him over to the Tudor for steaks on the grill, summertime corn on the cob, and beer. Only a good neighbor will do this.
Me!
I illuminate the back patio with candles, set out a cooler of Blue Moon beer and bowl of sliced oranges, and play some light jazz on the faux rock speakers.
Of course, he accepts my invitation. “What time, and what should I bring?”
I’m honest with him and say, “Seven o’clock and two shot glasses. I have this new whiskey I want to try with you.”
“Marines are always up for whiskey. Many of us have drinking problems when we come home from the Middle East. Fortunately, I don’t have an addiction to things”
Except for me. Maybe. Maybe not. I can only hope he does.
“Writers love their whiskey,” I reply and tell him not to be late.
