Date: September 25 at 08:18 EDT
Subject: RE: Back from the Azores
E–
I really hope you’re up because I need you to help me sort out my life. Can I call you?
M
From: Erin Walsh
To: Matthew Walsh
Date: September 25 at 13:21 WEST
Subject: RE: Back from the Azores
Unlikely. I drank my weight in the Portuguese equivalent of moonshine last night and I might have fried the speech portion of my brain.
Also: I’m getting on a bullet train to Italy. My capacity for support is limited.
And by sort out your life, you mean…what, exactly?
If you think for a second that I want to hear about how the Black Widow is ruining your life, you’ve really lost your fucking mind.
From: Matthew Walsh
To: Erin Walsh
Date: September 25 at 08:25 EDT
Subject: RE: Back from the Azores
No, Shannon is fine. She’s not ruining my life. You’d know that if you called her.
I met someone.
She showed up at my office yesterday in this dress, and we went to The Red Hat and she can pound tequila like a frat boy. Then she tripped and I brought her upstairs and my keys were in my pocket and she’s so fucking hot, and we hooked up and now she’s gone.
I should be over it, I get that, but I’m not. Not at all. I just don’t know what to do right now.
From: Erin Walsh
To: Matthew Walsh
Date: September 25 at 13:32 WEST
Subject: Matt’s mental breakdown
Stream of consciousness much?
Clearly, you’re distraught. Maybe hungover. Maybe both.
Ok. I need a minute to process this. Are you saying that you like chica? I didn’t think you were a hook-up and hang-out kind of kid.
And P.S.: The Red Hat? Classy, Matt. Classy. No wonder chica ditched your ass.
From: Matthew Walsh
