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Before we moved on, I asked Gayle if Icould take a photo of her against the background of the U.N. Buildingand the rest of the skyline. She agreed.We then started the downhill walk to Long Island City. The heat wasungodly. The normal breezes I was used to feeling on the bridge werenon-existent. By the time Gayle and I reached the ground in Queens wewere ready for a break. I suggested that we stop in a great littleChinese restaurant nearby."Will they let us in like this?" Gayle asked, pulling at her soaked t-shirt."They don't care," I said. "As long as we order something."We reached the restaurant in a few minutes. The cool air inside was adelight. We both drank several glasses of iced tea along with our meals.Gayle did not order much. That was no surprise, given how skinny shewas, I followed her cue and just got some dumplings and an egg roll.Our conversation covered every topic under the sun. Music. movies, food- all of the stuff that really matters in life. I was fascinated by. Such a sweetie, but what did that mean?I went to the door and cracked it open. The cool night air brushed past me, I had found Garret. They had put lip prints all over his body and sat him there, in a chair, in front of our place, for all the world to see. It was still dark so not many could have gotten a good look, but I am sure the pictures would hit Facebook soon.“Shit Garret, you finally passed out.” I nudged him. “Garret!”Nothing was working. I had to get him inside, but was not sure just how to do this if he wasn’t going to help. I grabbed an arm and pulled him over my shoulder. Most of his weight was still in the chair. I steadied myself and tried to stand with him. I was beginning to loose his arm. “Garret!”I yelled in his ear. It was enough to stir him. He struggled to put his feet underneath his body, and with my help we managed to get him through the door and into his room. I gave one last heave and threw him. His body twisted and landed with his back on the bed. The.
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