Kenny hung around a lot of girls but I never took him especially as somebody who had a girlfriend. I was a bit taken a back and didn't know what to say so I uttered the most generic thing I could think of.
"What's her name?"
"Jean."
"She go to SU?"
"Yes. Jean Gras."
Jean swung around
Rust Bar
later that night. At that point in my life I was cutting down on drinking, but that evening Kenny and I were into the bottom of our third pitcher. IPAs and stouts. Not the type of beers that you wanted to be drinking like we were. Any plans I had for being productive that night was already foobar. But what did that matter to someone like Kenny? Somebody with a warm body to go home with at the end.
I already knew I was going to be jealous long before Jean came in. But as she walked under the streaming lights hanging overhead from wall to wall I didn't feel any more prepared.
"There she is."
Kenny spoke light, like soft smoke exhaled from a french cigarette.
"That's my girlfriend."
"Yeah. I know her."
"You do?"
"Jean this mother fucker says he knows you?"
She started to shake her head, but then midway through started nodding.
"Hey you aren't..."
Kenny stood up elated. "My two favorite people in the world. Let's get another pitcher. PBR?"
