April 17, 2002
Jeanie was a stay-at-home socialite. Sounds impossible in this acrid, arid age, sure, but I figured it was worth subsidizing with my Big Game winnings. I slid her hubby Ambrose, let's just say, A FEW grand a month. Installments. Would've NEVER given it all to him at once, or I'd've had to bail him out of some gin-drenched hell by week's end. As it was, Jeanie could spend the day decorating their swank, swank digs and entertain family friends in the eve. Until Ambrose nodded drunkenly off and my day truly began. Ambrose sawed as the sun warmed earth's backside.