Is three a crowd?

I'll just go ahead and tell you now, that although you got a little peek into the small window of wisdom, I – yes, surprisingly – do have, this week's morsel isn't inlaid with one of those neat little gems. All pretty and shinin' and poignant. Nope, this week, was more of ....well...one “what the fuck” moment after another. Yep, that's pretty much the only thing that could describe it. Thank-you Mr. F-bomb for being increasingly versatile and still totally explicit.

The week before had weighed pretty heavily on all of us, and Kevin had been lost in retrospection for days. After draggin' him practically kickin' and screamin' to the bar (well, to the car, he had to drive of course – I don't think explanation is required for the many reasons as to which it's best I NOT operate a vehicle) he appeared to be shakin' his “funk.”

We had just finished our second round when a sudden outburst of shouts, applause, “hooraws,” and guffaws made me turn, wonderin' where the fight was.

Then, I heard an almost shrill voice sing-song, “She's ba-ack.”

The 3rd party reference to herself made Kevin whirl around in his bar stool, his interests now fully piqued, the voice more than familiar.

I tried to search the crowd where he searched, lookin' for a face to go with the voice, when the waves parted. And there she was, walkin' towards us, slapping asses, fivin' “hi's,” and kissin' cheeks the whole way. She had a guy in tow behind her, but he didn't look to be quite as happy to see everyone as she was.

She was absolutely beautiful, with chiseled cheekbones, large round eyes, and a magnanimous grin. I could practically see the light beamin' forth from her.

I think Kevin stopped breathin'. Seriously.

And if I'd thought she'd sounded shrill in her excited entrance before, I knew now that I was much to quick to define things. She squealed so high and so loud when she saw Kevin, I had to turn to make sure the liquor bottles linin' the bar didn't spontaneously combust.

Leavin' her “man” standin' behind her, she ran to Kevin, arms raised, and jumped into his, simultaneously wrappin' her legs around his waist. I think I'm pretty safe in definin' that as a bear-hug, if I ever saw one.

They clung to one another just long enough to make it totally awkward for the other guy and myself, obviously bein' placed on “standby” for the moment.

She was so close to his face, I thought she'd kiss him, but only gushed “Oh my God” and “Where've you been?” and then there was some little banter in a bad accent that was completely beyond me and obviously some kind of inside joke between the two of them.

Her legs were still wrapped around him as though that were the position in which all their conversations took place. I noticed her leather boots (immediately wantin' a pair), envied her muscular golden calfs and thighs, and....hmmm. What was that?

Brilliant colors swirled and peaked from the cuff of her shorts on the side of her thigh.

Well, you know me.

I reach on over and lifted her shorts a hair, so I could see the tattoo, then more, and more...a little more. Finally, I'm practically grabbin' her ass in order to get a better view.

It was a Phoenix in flight, and it almost looked to be on fire. The colors were so bright, and it looked as though the design around it covered the entirety of her hip. It was by far one of the prettiest tattoos I'd ever seen.

“That's amazing!” I blurted out, only then (I think) makin' her realize that it wasn't Kevin feelin' her up.

She turned to me, sliding off Kevin at the same time, but she didn't look mad, or surprised.

“Like what you see?” she asked, soundin' and lookin' more and more like a 3D version of Jessica Rabbit every second. I mean, really, slap a red-split dress on the girl, and we'd be done.

I didn't know if I was about to be hissed at or what when she leaned in closer. Maybe whisper a warnin' of ownership or some such thing as I myself had been prone to do? I guess that's what I was expectin'. I was not expectin' to suddenly feel her soft Angelina Jolie-ain't-got-nothin'-on-me lips press against mine.

It was quick – nothin' more than a peck really, and nothin' I hadn't impulsivley tried myself. But I coulnd't help the sudden reel of slide-show shots of circumstance run though my mind.

Obviously, Kevin and this girl had history. Kevin and I had, well, a newish history. And who was this girl? Pullin' a Jeaux-Jeaux? Tryin' to start a “history” with me? I was gettin' more and more confused by the minute.

Laughin', she pulled back, exclaimin' with a wink my way, “Well, Kevin, you finally got you an awful pretty one.”

“This is my friend,” he seemed to emphasize, “Jeaux.”

“I'm Rachel,” she said, “Kevin and me, we go way back.”

“I see that,” I said tryin' to sound polite, but totally drawin' a blank as to what to say. She just kissed me. Then kept lookin' at Kevin with that he's-the-one-who-got-away dreamy haze in her eyes. And I'll be honest, I did not like Kevin's slightly too quick reassurance that I was just a friend. Geez, he may as well have spelled it out for her. We're friends. Okay. We got it.

“Jeaux, Rachel here has a little something in common with you. Well, kind of,” he grinned teasingly at Rachel. “While you can't help yourself, Rachel here chooses to live in constant search of the shock factor. While you just tend to shock people as an after-effect of your intent, Rachel here goes in trying to make 'em squirm.”

“God, you make me sound like the devil Kevin! I'm not that bad!” she snapped.

And I did too. I snapped to the fact that, duh!, no wonder he'd been so acceptin' of me. He'd had a me before. I didn't quite like it.

“Really, I'm not that bad!” she insisted, turnin' her attentions on me. “But what's he talkin' about with you?”

“I don't have any impulse control. Brain injury. Doctor's don't really know exactly what to make of it," I practically yelled over the music, "I'm just, umm, impulsive.”

“And you can't control it? You think and you do? That kind of thing?” she asked, soundin' very intrigued.

“If it's at the fore-front of my mind...for the most part, yeah.”

“Ohhh, I gotta see this,” she cooed, a sly grin formin' on her face.

Kevin jumped in then, “Nooo. No. No. No. I already see those wicked little wheels turning.”

“What?” she gasped, as though he'd truly hurt her feelings.

“Nu-uh. No. You're not gonna use her as your little play-thing.”

Who said I would be used? I thought.

“Oh come on now! That's just not true. I am not that bad! I live to love baby and I just love to live!” she said, chucklin' again.

But I wasn't as amused. “You make me sound like I'm some kid Kevin,” I said, my irritation showin' all over my face I'm sure.

Rachel laughed a boomin' sound that shook her chest. Throwin' her arm around my shoulders, she exlcaimed, “Why I do believe I've just found my new best friend.”

I couldn't help it. Somethin' about her just made you want to be happy. Light. Fun. I smiled.

Kevin just shook his head at us. He looked to be lost somewhere between amused intrigue, and terrified concern.

“Where'd your guy go Rach?”

She turned barely lookin' and shrugged her shoulders, barely enunciatin', “I dunno.”

“I'm right here,” he growled, startlin' all of us. Buried in the camouflage of jackets at the bar, we hadn't seen him, and honestly, I'd forgotten all about him.

“Damn Rachel! I mean you said we were going somewhere cool. Fun. This place is neither of those things. A dirty fuckin' whole in the wall. I am done with this whole Texas-hillbilly-hippie thing. We are leaving. Now.”

Okay, I'll grant the guy the fact that he'd been totally ignored since he'd gotten there, but damn!

Before Rachel or I could even see it comin' the guy went from standin' beside the bar, to lyin' beneath it, totally unconscious. “Billy, can you haul this jackass outta here please? Thanks,” Kevin shouted to the bouncer at the door.

Kevin gave his fist a good shake, and then shook his head at Rachel, “Really Rach? This guy?”

She just shrugged her shoulders again, but I figured I knew exactly all he'd been good for.

As Kevin walked back to his bar-stool, he was still shakin' his head, and gruntin' about us “Damn broads.” But we both heard him mutter “Must be rubbing off on me.”

In perfect unison, Rachel and I chimed, “Good!”

I smiled again. Maybe we could be friends after all. I wasn't a baby. Kevin didn't need to look after me all the time. I don't need a care-taker.

Do I?