The comedy club Rob performed at was closed for the next ten hours. He lingered by the door, didn’t have a change of clothes. Here’s to hoping he’ll be able to pay the bills when the bills arrive. At a diner he ordered frozen yogurt. I’m new in town, man. I like it here. They don’t have froyo like this in Austin, man!
I’m like, “hey, Rob, why are we here? I came to Hollywood to work in Hollywood.” All laugh heartily at the comment. The slightest ounce of effort roughly equates into borderline sex with a stranger in the middle of a waiting room, casually surrounded by sick and coughing patients seated sporadically, pants soaked and stained.
Whiskey, vodka, beer - he had whatever we fancied. We drank at his place. By noon I was still drinking or asleep on his couch or expertly driving drunk down the 101 to my Koreatown apartment to see the dog, or shower, but otherwise there wasn’t much reason to go home. Coffee. My lovely wife.
Pretty lucky besides being a large “abject alcoholic scumbag.” Her words. I killed her drunk while I was drunk and didn’t go to jail. She had a closed-casket funeral I don’t remember. I felt like I hired a ghost to inhabit my body and it woke me when I could no longer pay the bill. We can hand out fliers to people who pass for a while, you know.
At last, at long last: acceptance, sweet and brief. My son had a guard escort me out as soon as he caught wind.
Teach a man to fish and he’ll ask, “how are you the manager of this McDonalds, bro?” He did well before. His karaoke was the best I’d ever heard Def Lep., man.
The nurse stopped at Del Taco on his lunch break. Before that he came to my room, hugged me, and left. Because that’s how grown men act. The hug was my birthday. It’s hard to fathom how a professional can so calmly, even pleasantly, deliver life-changing news. At least provide coffee.