Our Weekend with Michael Jackson and R. Kelly
Katie came with a record player. I had planned on buying one for myself just about the time we got serious, so when we moved in together, hers became mine, and I was Don Hall-excited about it. I could finally dust off my vinyl collection and give the old discs a spin. The first one I chose was my original pressing of Michael Jackson’s Thriller. At about the third track, the Paul McCartney duet “The Girl is Mine,” Katie asked, “Who is this?”
“Who is this!?” I responded, astounded and slightly confused. “It’s Michael Jackson. It’s Thriller — the second best-selling album of all time.”
“Oh, I don’t like Michael Jackson.”
I immediately questioned our entire relationship and my taste in women. “What!? How can you not like Michael Jackson?
Jake and Caroline’s first date was at The Whistler. They talked about Ronnie, how much they loved The Diplomat, and debated the better ride-share service, Uber or Lyft. She was Uber, he was Lyft. They got wasted on Sazeracs and had sex at her apartment. It was incredible for both of them. Caroline stopped taking sex advice from Ronnie.