Courtesy of The Impossible Cool, let’s end this week with a dose of Bad-Ass:
Robert Mitchum.
Whose biography, Baby, I Don’t Care
Every man should have at least one Robert Mitchum moment in his life. Here’s mine.
I was at a New Year’s party in NYC in 2003, a few sheets to the wind, kindasorta getting over some heartbreak, when I bumped into a cute, tall, redhead who’d drunkenly flirted with me at a party a few weeks earlier. We resumed our flirtation and got to smooching a little. Then she looked up into my eyes and drunktiredhorny said, “Take me home.”
And I looked at her, smiled, and said, “Baby, I ain’t got a home.”*
That’s my Robert Mitchum moment. She reconnected with her friends, who led her outside a little later. Two days after, I met the woman I’m gonna spend the rest of my life with.
* As far as that night went, it was true. I wasn’t driving back to NJ in that condition, and wasn’t gonna bring her back to my friends’ sofa with me.
Robert Mitchum woulda known she wanted you to take her to HER home.