A friend posted that she wanted her friends to post about how we met, but lie about it. So…
It was back in 97 when you were still a private investigator and I was looking for the fabled Monkey’s Paw Ruby. You were tailing Sammy the Squid when our paths happened to cross at that broken down airport near the Bimini border. Some one had poisoned the pilot, but you said you could fly. I had you drop me off in Bangladesh. I still think landing the plane first would have been more polite, but it was monsoon season, so we’d have had to have been really lucky to find an airstrip under all that water. I said I’d meet you in the Black Jack bar on the Barbary coast and buy you a drink, but I got tangled up with the ruby’s curse and never made it. That’s another story.