Tuesday helped her with computer. Died earlier, now better. Two sweet kitties, red sauce with peas, wine, beer, idle chatter, gossip. Nice girl. You’d like her. Dating somebody on a path to fame. Not Harrison Ford fame, more like Ken Ober fame. Maybe. Ran into Henley at the train. Talked to him. Nothing to say. “What’s up?” Nothing. How bout you? “Nothing. What’re you doing out here?” All skeptical like. Nothing. Visiting friends. “You know people out here?” It’s Williamsburg. Everybody knows somebody in Williamsburg. Yeah, a friend of mine. Make it sound important, make it a Thing, not just a thing. Yeah, we’re having dinner. Yeah, her roommate’s in movies. Yeah, they’ve been out here, like, forever. Before you, anyway. When it was hip. She’s cool. He’s cool. Apartment’s huge. Apartment can be penis of a platonic roommate relationship. Big apartment is like big penis. Brag. Show it off. Make bold claims, even on behalf of others. I do. Yeah, Henley, they pay, like, no rent. Cheap. Margaret Cho shot a movie there. Yeah. Quick trains back. Man dressed as woman. Halloween? Two days ago, buddy. But whatever suits.
