Notes, from the Upper West Side, a novel by Dan Wrench. Chapter 25, Flaky Shades. Cami wasn't there, plus I forgot to pick up the van I said I'd get. The whole day sucked the Gorilla Mound.
I know. Forgetting the van made me a dick. There's no escaping it. Mayakulpa.
But being a dick wasn't totally my fault. See, when I get up in the morning it isn't like when Park gets up. When Park gets up, he just has to shave and brush his teeth and split. Me, on the other hand, I have to do that fighting for the bathroom shtick with two sons and a wife who's really pissed because I can't convince her I didn't know all along that I'd have to do this for three days instead of one.
I'm a producer, huh? Park begged me and fuck, I couldn't say no. She sipped at her coffee and said nothing like my reason wasn't good enough to deserve an audible reply. When we were younger and she pouted like that, I always ended up begging her to engage, you know?
Stop making me guess what you think. I guess you can say no to me and your kids though. She finally said. You can say no to your family on a Sunday.
Gotta go. You're not leaving until you explain to your children why they don't get a file this weekend. I'll explain when I get home. You'll explain.
Now. Daddy. Harry asked. Don't I get to ride on your shoulders to church?
He started to sob. Then Sammy started blubbering. Jesus what a pair of pussies. I started to explain it to them but I figured out fast that a cheap bribe would be quicker and easier.
Hey boys, I'll tell you when I get home. Chinese pizza. Yay! I made for the door while Junior muttered something with that flat ass sound.
You know, like asshole or bastard. That's what I had to go through to get downtown dividers. It's why I forgot all about the van until I was approximately five steps away from the front door of Vider's club. I figured I'd go back up town and get the damn thing but since that would make me an extra hour late I walked into Vider's to find Parp and tell him what I was up to.
He was standing with Bang and Whisper and some of the crew and George Vider at the piano over by the stage where they cleared a lot of tables away. A few yards beyond them a bunch of guys were hanging another green screen while the assistant director diked watched and screamed out stuff like, I still see a shadow retard. I told Parp I screwed the pooch van wise and then I'd be back in an hour and plop the keys in his hand but it turned out he'd sent somebody to get it already. Oh.
I said. So you just assumed I screwed up. We gave it a half hour than pretty much. The consensus was yeah, Paul screwed up.
You just missed Terry. He split like three minutes ago. Terry was the kid they sent up town on the subway to get the van. I kind of resent that.
I said. You couldn't pick up the phone. Call me. Tried that.
Whisper jumped in. Junior picked up. I winced. Okay.
So I forgot the van and the phone. Whisper saw the winced. Ha ha ha. He laughed.
He started the slow clap with his hands cupped so it sounded like boom. What an asshole. Then Parp and fighter just started laughing really hard and when Bang saw a fighter laugh and he joined in with that goose honk of his. I was outnumbered so I added in a gig cackle.
Self-deprecating. Again. You know you can't be trusted Paul. Fighter said.
I almost never see fighter anymore but when I do see him he always talks to me like he just saw me yesterday. Well, I'll get it tomorrow. They laughed some more. It was starting to piss me off.
For real I said. They stopped laughing in there somewhere and Parp told me they'd let me off the hook and I'll be forgiven if right now I would take one of the cars and drive out to Long Island to get a win to the photographer. I thought Cami was her ride. I said.
Cameron can't make it today. Parp said when we were alone on the sidewalk on the way to the car. She just called. So.
The whole producer thing? All for naught. He said. But she said she'll be on the set tomorrow.
Okay, so tomorrow. Same deal. You give back your check from yesterday and you're a producer all three days. So you want to hang around today?
May as well. It's either this or church. Parp gave me the keys and Belinda's address. It was going to be a three hour round trip.
She can't take the train. She has a weird thing about trains and elevators. And just like that he turned around and walked back to the fighters. No thank you.
No goodbye. It was split like it was my job to show for conform. That's when it hit me. My delayed reaction to the news Cami wasn't going to be there.
I fought the wife and the boo-hooing brats and got here and now was going to be another agonizing 24 hours before I had another shot at her and there was no guarantee she wouldn't just decide to sleep in tomorrow too. Flaky shades of Mora. 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 2013-2015. By Dan Rench.