I knew Jack from college. He'd turn up every

I knew Jack from college. He'd turn up every 5 years or so at awkward moments which seemed to derail everything I'd built up in the interim. When he showed up at my wedding wearing

a tuxedo 2 sizes too small & drunk as a bike I knew there'd be problems. "I wore this at your first wedding," Jack slurred."Thought it'd bring you luck." He wandered away to hassle

the pretty young bridesmaids, but a posse of matrons made a formidable line of defense. Jack was easily cowed by this maneuver and staggered into a coat closet. While the guests

guessed which coat was there's Jack ducked away from the wedding to get a bottle of Boone's farm wine. He wanted a cheap and greasy drunk tonight so that he could have that sloppy

, desperate, tangled rendezvous with the maid of honor that she'd been intimating every time their paths crossed throughout the day. He also wanted to remember nothing the next

day so he pulled a Gus Bluth, popping a Forget-Me-Now to drown in a succession of alcohol soaked umbrella drinks. He came to (the wedding was in Jersey) a week later in Sri Lanka.

He'd been fired from his International Financials editorial position after publishing a lengthy piece on stimulating the European clitoris. He'd also gotten a face tat and lost a

a lot of face in the Finance community to say the least. He traced the lines of his new face tattoo, admiring the handiwork. As their eyes met, the Wall Street stockbroker screa

med. Why? Nobody really knew, but such are the ways of those on Wall Street. "Tit for tat?" He asked hopefully.

But there was no answer. Only silence was present. Finally he said, that this is an empty world. We all gonna die one day.