Jack

When Jack gets hyper I can’t write. I am constantly begging him not to drink that Redbull. He doesn’t need wings, he’s already as high strung as they come. He’s blasting country music and singing, only breaking to comment on something or other. It’s like he must constantly use his vocal cords. We go to Walmart and I’m trying to focus on my grocery list, but Jack can’t help but distract me with his own thoughts, “I’m gonna take my sister to see colleges next summer, ya know cause I want her to make something of herself. She’s so smart, and pretty!” “Dang, I love Walmart. I would live in a Walmart if I could.” “I want to get that new Justin Beiber CD! He’s so hot. Too bad he’s only 16. Oh well, I’d still fuck him. But in DC though cause it’s legal there.” Finally he says, “Tony gets really annoyed at me in stores like this.” “Well I can see why!” I retort. In order to put up with Jack I have to be on his level so I start chugging 5 hour energy drinks and chain smoking. Our next superstore trip is a lot more fun. We are amped up and instead of him irritating me, we both make it a point to yap so loud we annoy everyone around us. But we don’t care.