from an ongoing series:
If his behavior on my flight to Ozaka is any indication, Billy will dress like a 40-year old cop trying to go undercover at a high school.
He will sport long, greasy hair, with a ponytail on top, a la Patrick Rafter circa 1998, and a t-shirt that reads BUllSHit in foot-tall red letters. The t-shirt will be tight enough to reveal that he hasn’t been back to Equinox 76th street since he used to hit on my friend there in 1993.
He will emerge from first to walk repeatedly around the business class cabin, presumably so that we can all read his shirt. He will be careful to avoid entering the coach cabin. At customs, once he’s thrust back into gen pop, he will don a giant pair of sunglasses and keep his head down and arms folded (over his oh-so-rebellious slogan).
He will not wait for any checked luggage, but take his carry-on and disappear with a Japanese handler, presumably to shoot a pachinko commercial or some other mortgage-paying gig.