I am often preoccupied with thoughts of Phil. These ruminations fluctuate from nostalgia and regret to bitterness and anger— but mostly, I struggle to understand the ease with which he flippantly smuggled me into and left me alone in the Chinese countryside for the sake of a short-sighted laugh (my success and ultimate affinity for this place and its people notwithstanding). Though perhaps a simple prank gone wrong and something for which he may one day be forgiven, these days I try and focus on the reasons I hate Phil. Here are five of them.
1. His stupid, stupid face.
2. That annoying sound he makes when he laughs.
3. He’s a shameless war-profiteer.
4. He gave me gonorrhea. Long story.
5. He never really understood me.
Update: Phil has reared his butt-shaped head in the comments section below, and I would like to remind you all that he is not to be trusted. I only read the best literature, and he is not as well-intentioned as he might want you to think. And he is definitely the one with the stupid laugh.
Hey there Rog-
good to see you’re still as slow-witted as ever. How’s China? Bahahahahahahah!
Three things people should know about Roger:
1. He once read “Eat, Pray, Love” and told me it was a “pretty good read”.
2. He is actually the one with the annoying laugh. Imagine a drunk hyena, then give it a bullhorn.
3. As far as my leaving him alone in the Chinese countryside is concerned, he was totally asking for it. Also, I didn’t mean to take his passport with me, and when I lost it in Uzbekistan it was a complete accident. I swear.
Phil-
None of that is true. I see you’re as deceitful as ever, you son of a dog.
PS-Your face looks like a butt.
Phil, please leave my son alone. He’s a nice boy. Why didn’t you call?
geez, Ma. Are you trying to embarrass me?
I’ll call you tomorrow when I get back from running errands for Knox in Ningbo.
Settle down, boys, all you do is bicker.
Rog – scored you those tix to Jack Canfield at the Shanghai lit fest. Don’t forget your spoon.
btw, there’s a great reading of “Socrates in Sichuan” at the Chengdu Lit fest coming up next month. be there or be square.
For the Soup? Damn i wish i could go. I’m a little hot right now (I had an issue with the Ningbo PSB yesterday. Found some Quaaludes™ in a credenza, things got loose). Doin fine now, though, just fine.
I remember Roger’s state when i found him outside the old reggae bar. He had fallen into the little pool they had there. I pulled him out, gave him a Hong Mei and well … I don’t know Phil personally except through the effects of his friendship that were clearly marked all over Roger’s body and psyche …
I hope you can explain yourself someday Phil, if not to us, then to the god you pray to.
Phil has no god and prays to no one, save for another bottle of whatever it is that has removed his ability to feel human empathy.
I wish you ill, Phillip.