The apparently simple act of taking a roll of photos would introvert him for several days. After an afternoon of picture taking he suddenly wouldn't return calls, emails or even an exceptionally overdue video to the local Blockbusters. He would hole himself up at home developing these images from the world outside and after his work was finished he'd unwind by getting stoned and playing Classic Nintendo for marathon stretches of time. "Getting high with my Italian friend, " is what he called it.
Consequently, it came as no surprise to anyone that he wouldn't be stepping out the front door for a long time after completing the photos for a ridiculously named coffee table book published by Vice Magazine. There were many questions however as to the manner in which he accomplished the great task of taking over a hundred photos of drunk people from around the world.
De-de-de-de-de-de- Mario jumped through desert snakes with the power of invincibility.
"So what was your hardest shoot," Matt inquired keeping his gaze fixed on Mario's salvation.
"I dunno," he said behind a billow of thick haze seeping out of his mouth like a building vomiting its burning contents.
"Yeah how did you get the deal through Vice anyway ?" Matt continued questioning and playing.
"Ahh just.. you know... hanging out with some buddies and..."
Matt was in town for a week and visiting his brother had been at the bottom of his list of priorities but he thought that maybe he could find a few toeholds into the matrix of his brother's networking web.
What was he thinking, he thought as Mario died another death. Later that week Matt got slobberingly drunk and ended up in tears with a lady friends' handbag on his head.
No photo was ever taken of this.