“That was the worst thing of all, time to think. Time to think was life’s petri dish” – Hurt Machine by Reed Farrel Coleman

My old buddy Cliff is working a fracking rig just north of Laredo, by himself. A 24 hour gate. A busy gate. No time to shower – sleep – eat a decent meal. Snakes and illegals.

Bad karma.

With temps hovering around 104, Cliff’s days are probably numbered. Poor guy. And so young.

As a good friend, I felt compelled to do something. I could ease his mind. Offer some moral support. That kind of thing. As a good friend. You know.

A concerned call:

Bob, how’s it going?

Fine Cliff. I’m worried about you.

Me. Why?

Face the facts Cliff, working that gate down there in that heat – well……………how long can you hold on? Really.

Huh?

You’re in denial Cliff. At the most, you’ve got about a month. Anyway, as your friend, I want to do something for you.  Just one less thing for you to worry about as you prepare to meet the big guy.

Have you lost your mind?

Listen to me Cliff. I don’t want you to fret about who will take care of your Hot Tub after that final day.

I’ll have my cousin Luigi pick it up and move it over here to my estate in South Texas. I’ll take care of it and enjoy it in your memory. Just sayin.

Cliff??????? Are you there?

Lost him. Must be a weak signal.

“Death is not an event in life: we do not live to experience death” – Wittgensteinm