SATIRE — The last thing I remember is the spiral. And the house music. Oh God, the house music.
Everything was Calvin Harris and nightmares until Johnny rifled me cap-first across the pool deck of the Four Seasons Resort and Club in Dallas.
I hit the wall as the bass dropped to “Summer” and awoke hours later to a custodian inspecting me for vital signs and backwash.
Now, with the concussive symptoms wearing off and my contents returning to room temperature, the details of that fateful afternoon come back to me.
For one, I remember being brought to the poolside cabana.