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I can’t go to Amsterdam. One of my doctors thinks it’s a bad idea.”He was quiet for a second. “God,” he said. “I should’ve just paid for it myself. Should’ve just taken you straight from the Funky Bones to Amsterdam.””But then I would’ve had a probably fatal episode of deoxygenation in Amsterdam, and my body would have been shipped home in the cargo hold of an airplane,” I said. “Well, yeah,” he said. “But before that, my grand romantic gesture would have totally gotten me laid.”I laughed pretty hard, hard enought that I felt where the chest tube had been. “You laugh because it’s true,” he said.I laughed again.”It’s true, isn’t it!” “Probably not,” I said, and then after a moment added, “although you never know.
