There's a story behind this picture.

I have this friend who's awesome. Sadly he's moved out of town so I only see him every couple months, but he's one of the most awesome people I know. He's exceptionally smart and funny, but far more importantly, he just has the kind of effortless self-confidence you can't buy in stores. I'm hesitant to describe him in too much detail because he knows basically everyone including famous people and all my friends including the ones I met in completely different ways, but he's the kind of guy who can walk down the street in a floral dress and diving mask with a live weasel on his head and elicit only admiration. And he's the kind of guy who would.

Let's call him PJ.

This morning, PJ was in town, and he called me up to accompany him on a little project. PJ had to repay a debt to a friend. This friend had loaned PJ a couple thousand bucks when PJ was going through hard times, and now that PJ was going through easy times, he wanted to repay the loan in style.

Our first stop was at the Bank of America. "I want to withdraw $2600," PJ said, "in one-dollar bills." We'd thought we might have to go to a few branches and maybe some fast-talking to accomplish this, but no, they had 2600 dollar bills on hand. They gave PJ 6 stacks of $100 and 2 fat plastic-wrapped bricks of $1000 without raising an eyebrow.

I should mention that PJ's friend is getting married tomorrow. Part of PJ's dream is that the friend and his new wife will now be able to fuck on a giant pile of money on their wedding night.

Our second stop was a luggage store. PJ bought a nice leather briefcase--crisp classic lines, rectangular profile, built-in combination lock.

Our third stop was at a grocery store. PJ bought six pounds of powdered sugar and a box of plastic baggies.

We went back to PJ's apartment and set to work. PJ carefully stacked the bills in the suitcase while his roommates and I packaged "the shit" in securely wrapped bricks. They had a glass coffee table, so I rolled up a bill and did a few lines. It was pretty sweet stuff.

Once the briefcase was packed, we were taking pictures, and we (okay, probably I) decided that the pictures could use a little pizazz. A little showcasing. I took off my top. PJ loaned me his 1950s smoking jacket.

And that's the story behind this picture.

NWS.