Tequila lubricates Thom from innate reticence (like his father, who used to hang in saloons to pick up dialog) to loquaciousness, and it's a show you don't want to miss.
"Why are martinis like a women's breasts?" he asks, as if I were born yesterday.
"It's the same with tequila, Thom, so you must like women with six tits."
"The more the merrier." Thom drains his shot.
Somehow, we got on to the sense of smell.
"Aroma is more powerful than everyone thinks," says Thom, again, preaching to the choir.
"It's subtle, but scent is an underrated sense," I concur.
"It's amazing how an aroma can evoke a memory, take you right back there in a split second." Thom moves into his point. "Did you read about Steve Jobs' last words? 'Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow.' He saw it it, man. I know about this. I've been there. I was in Vietnam, on helicopters, taking wounded soldiers on board. They were dying. They saw it, too. And at the end, they felt no pain. You see that they see it, and the pain suddenly disappears. Light at the end of the tunnel. Happened to my brother when he died. Light one end, turned around, saw his ex-wife at the other end. No contest."
Apparently, Thom's last words: "Can I go now?"
Goodbye, Thom. We'll miss you.