“¦ you know, I just don’t get these Jersey guys”¦ I really don’t”¦ take Vinnie for instance, what an asshole”¦ see, Jimbo asked me to come around every so often to make sure that his Bourbon didn’t get lonely while he was away”¦ and that is just what I was doing the other night”¦

.. quietly minding my own business out on his deck, I was contentedly listening to my darling Patsy croon when Vinnie rounded the corner with a shovel in one hand and a half-burned cigar in the other”¦

Vinne: What da fuck?!… Who day a tink YOU are?… Where’s Jimbo?.. and where are your farookin’ pants?!

Me: “¦ Howdy”¦. I’m Eric.. Jimbo is down in Florida hiding from gators and drinking vodka with a bunch of geriatrics that he knows”¦ he asked me to”¦

“¦ the burly Jerseyite curtailed my explanation.. Vinnie obviously didn’t like me almost immediately”¦ which is a bit strange, really”¦ usually it takes people a few hours before they decide they want to kick my ass”¦

Vinne: “¦ You’re not from around deese parts, are ya, Ricky?… so Jimbo is in Florida, eh?… well, where are your farookin’ pants, redneck?…

“¦ just between you and I, Vinnie was starting to get a bit active with the shovel”¦ one could almost say that “brandishing it” was not far away on the horizon”¦.

Me: “¦. Don’t get upset, sir”¦ it’s all above-board, I promise”¦ and you can trust Uncle Eri.. umm, never mind”¦. and yes, I’m from Tennessee”¦ and my pants are on the kitchen table next to the Indian carry-out I’ll be enjoying for dinner”¦. but I’m no Redneck, sir”¦ he’s this OTHER guy from up in Ohio somewhere”¦. see, I’m a guy Jimbo met from off of the internet”¦ we bonded down in Helen, Georgia a few years ago over a few half-gallons of homemade Apple Brandy”¦ and since then, well, we’ve been pals“¦

Vinnie: “¦ Shaddup, redneck!… go inside and put your pants on”¦ youse is making Jimbo’s deck look like a scene from “Deliverance“”¦ wait”¦ I tink I heard about dis from some guy over at The American Legion”¦ are you the lowlife who painted Jimbo’s toenails red?…

Me“¦ HAHA!… nope.. that wasn’t I, my New Jersey friend, that was someone else!… I just took the pictures!… hey, you want a Krisy Kreme donut?… I carried them all the way up to New Jersey from Tennessee to hand out as “Friendship Tokens“… here, have one… they’re yummy!…

“¦ well, that is all I can remember right now”¦. well, that and the “ding“ of that shovel smashing against my noggin”¦. I woke up a few hours ago laying duct-taped in the kitchen with a strange dream-like memory of guys with New Jersey accents laughing about some guy named Jimmy Hoffa and some parking lot… and something about Jimbo’s crawlspace and “paying off his markers“…. I must have been out for a day or so…

… I’m not sure I’m cut out to be chilling in Jimbo’s pad… but one thing is for sure… once I get a shower and clean off this duct tape residue, I’m keeping my damn pants on… these guys up here just don’t know how to relax…