Kensey used to be a normal, upstanding citizen... He went to work, paid his taxes, drank a few beers and spent time on his newest hobby, photography. He has quickly become one of my very favorite people, the poor bastard. (You can view and like his Facebook page here if you're so inclined.. Juke Joint Photos.)
Since meeting Kensey, I'm afraid I've corrupted him irreversibly. Not that I have worked alone in this, The Asshole Club, which is exactly what it sounds like, has certainly had a hand in it as well. I should mention that the man is well over the age when he should have been corrupted.
First, I got the man kicked out of a bar for the very first time. Not because he was doing anything wrong... simply because he was there with me. I have that effect on some people.
I've taken him to dive bars and informed him that he must never, ever wash his hands while in a certain bar's bathroom. To be honest, the cleanest thing a person can touch in that place in one's own genitals.
At some point he decided to grow a ponytail and spent weeks trying to convince me to go to a different dive bar with him. A particularly dive-y dive bar that I wouldn't even go to. He may or may not have mentioned his desire to be involved in a bar fight as well.
We drink a lot of beer together. We've day drank, closed the bars and watched the sun come up while drinking in his kitchen.
I have to mention that his grown daughter deserves a medal or something, because there is now way the group of us can possibly be quiet when we all gather in his kitchen for booze and a breakfast consisting of popcorn. Finding anywhere from one to three people passed out in various places doesn't seem to faze her in the least. She has yet to emerge from her room with a shotgun loaded with rock salt, so she must be some sort of saint.
In any case, Kensey has finally removed the ponytail. Thank God, because I truly was afraid he was going to organize an Asshole Club day trip to that one dive-y dive bar and get us all killed.
You'd think that would solve the Bad Boy image...but it has not. Somehow, he talked me into going golfing. As part of that agreement, he agreed to go on a motorcycle run with me. He rode with a friend of mine, since my bike is all tiny and shit. It went fairly well until they laid the bike down in the highway.
I'm making light of it, but it was a pretty horrible wreck. The driver was seriously injured, but is recovering quite well now. Kensey ended up wrapped like a mummy for weeks. Of course we made fun of him every chance we got. We're assholes.
Since he's been off work for some time now... he's had more time to perfect his inner bad boy. He was positively giddy when he informed me that the person he'd been hanging out with had an active warrant for their arrest.
He has also informed me, just the other day, that if the police were looking for me, I was welcome to hide out at his house, or in his tree. If, however, I had found myself on "lam", he offered me the use of his car. I'm only half sure he was kidding. Fortunately, I am not on the lam.
In short... Since I've met Kensey, he's gotten thrown out of bars, hung out with fugitives, not washed his hands after peeing, and been in a motorcycle wreck. He's had a dozen people in his kitchen, drinking until the sun came up. He's had several random women pass out in his living room. He doesn't appear to mind our influence though.
He seems to be having a blast, and to be honest?
I think I want to be Kensey when I grow up.