15 Minutes with Kevin in Evanston
Kevin was on his own. His endgame, I had figured out, was just to let his rage unfurl until the booze wore off. At which point, assuming he avoided arrest, he’d walk home. I figured this because I had been there before. And truth be told, I was having a bit of a bad day, too. Nothing specific. Just a general sense of annoyance with being awake. It happens. It’s one of the reasons we drink beer in bars and put up with bar trivia hosts.
Empires collapse, fortunes evaporate, and stocks nosedive into hell—but a deep sleep, a clean shit, and a laugh that shakes your skeleton remain the closest thing humanity has to real wealth.