I once wrote in a review that I didn’t particularly like Anita. I retract that.
If she warned me not to meet up with Jack Shepherd, I’d have to notch it up as good advice.
She’s got a wicked sense of humour, testing Jack if he’d been to the Lone Star while she was overseas promoting her art work.
A lesbian show perhaps?
I’m liking her more and more and for the same reasons Jack is fond of her.
She speaks her mind and is entertaining about it.
Jack gives back as good as he gets, suggesting that punters aren’t after her afterwork, well he’s not sure about that. But he’s pretty sure why he likes hanging out with her, and it’s not about the artwork. His knowledge on the subject goes back to a few Renaissance artist, who he reckons must have had beards.
Jack is madly in love with her, but he hasn’t got the balls to ask her for marriage. You can see he’s a little insecure about himself. But when it comes to meeting a dead man from his past, he doesn’t think twice about making the rendezvous.
Anita is his ‘nagging’ conscience. But Jack’s conscience, perched on the other shoulder like a loud and boisterous Galah, is always goading him on, having the last say on matters.
Don’t listen to that nag and do what’s right. What’s right for you. For what you stand for. They don’t call you loyal Jack for nothing.
Lets just say their relationship is based on the tug of war principle and something’s got to eventually give, right? Their relationship is a balancing act and seems always on the verge of going south, throughout the Shepherd series.
Jack said he was the only ‘farang’ in this town who wasn’t hooked up with a Thai. There goes the theory about settling down in Bangkok and being served purple colored cocktails by honey skinned waitresses with long Black Widow silky hair.
But all this could change.
Well maybe not.
The series is evolving and Jack is changing. And thank fuck for that.
What, you didn’t like my early Jack?
I didn’t mean that. Or maybe I didn’t like Jack’s semi-enamored attitude of Thailand – I knew it would screw him over one way or another. In Macau, he was Da Man.
The place stunk from the first day I arrived.
And only those who get smitten are the cunt struck.
Deep down, I figured as much.
Jack isn’t Tay. Tay, by all accounts, is a loser with women and relationships, but Jack is just hanging on by a thread. He likes her enough to turn down the volume of a football match he’s watching on ESPN.
Jack has left the States, but the States are coming back to see him. You can tell he’s not cut out to retire at some third rate University retelling his glory days.
He takes the bait, hook line and sinker.
This is Jack Shepherd.
Don’t fuck with him.