I begged him to do it again. You could tell Lawrence was tired, catching his breath from swinging the ropes like Tarzan. I felt the “no” coming. Once he heard I had a page, though, he changed his mind. But first, his wife.
While watching her fly, I asked if he was Hawaiian. Nope. Half Filipino, some Cherokee, a little bit of Polish.
When it was his turn, she said, “he’s hot.”
“Yeah, he is.”
