Notes from the Upper West Side. A novel by Dan Wrench. Chapter 1. Revenge.
I just now decided I'm writing this book for Revenge. Revenge works for me. Technically, writing this book is an assignment for my therapist Jessica. Dr.
Jessica. But I've been putting it off for the last couple weeks and going downstairs to this bar near my place called the Mermaid Inn. It's summer so it's easy to just go out to the sidewalk and hang for a smoke between beers. This book.
Writing this book. This assignment hanging over my head was like every other homework assignment I've ever been given all the way back to the original evil twat in my life, Mrs. Carol Marquette. She was a Sunday school teacher.
The evil twat used to dig her chin into my shoulder when I owed her something and didn't deliver. Usually this was shit I had to memorize like the names of the Twelve Apostles or the books of the New Testament. That's what popped into my head tonight when I was in front of the Mermaid smoking and looking across the street at this fenced in playground. 10, 30 or so at night before the revenge thing clicked.
Then it was like I woke up and said fuck this. This doesn't have to be about my therapy. This can be about what I want it to be about and I want it to be about revenge. Jessica said you don't have to polish this or read about publishing it.
This book is for you. But that was exactly wrong. What I want is revenge. They get revenge.
I pretty much have to get my story out there where it can break some glass. And who do I want revenge on? Pretty much everybody at this point except of course the two boys, my two sons, Harry and Sam, we're a team. Maybe not everybody else but definitely my wife who stuck me with the kids so she could go spend a month in Southern California sucking the cock of the other person I definitely want to get revenge on.
Tony, Park, the Jackal. It's justice, not just revenge. I just thought of that. And you know why?
Because all I'm going to do is tell the truth. If they choose about the cock sucker and the cock sucker E were pretty, well then they'd be proud. But it ain't pretty. Get ready for it.
Justice. Fuck yeah. Between that last sentence and this one I ran downstairs to have another cigarette. I've never lived much in my head so now I know what it's like to be all rightery and have some idea making you get up and pace around and run downstairs and smoke and get a drink and then run back up and pace.
Putting things down on paper? I've never been good at it. Like it's real hard for me to remember where commas are supposed to go. So I think for the most part I'll skip those.
When I was down there I saw they were getting ready for one of those street fairs on 88th Street near Amsterdam where I live. You can tell because of the rolls of signage in the smell of cheap street meat which is definitely not part of the normal Upper West Side near Amsterdam ambiance. This book will be the product of 30 years thinking on the Upper West Side. I thought.
Anyway when I was down there I thought up another reason why I like the revenge angle. Namely, now I know where to begin the story. Notes from the Upper West Side is a work of fiction. The people depicted in this work do not exist.
Notes from the Upper West Side copyright 2023 by Dan Wrench.