Back before Kevin left to cover the Republican National Convention, I publicly demanded that he pick me up a souvenir as compensation for his volunteering me in the Wall Street Journal to live-blog the speeches.
Yesterday, there was a knock on my door. This ratty-looking guy with dirty-blond dreadlocks and dressed all in black was there.
“Hey, dude. Are you Jay Tea?”
“Um… I might be…”
He brushed past me. “Cool. This dude I met in New York — I think his name was Kevin — told me I could crash here for a while.” He headed straight for my fridge. “Like, where’s your X-Box?”
I don’t know how, I don’t know when, but I will get you for this, Kevin…