Thursday, March 04, 2021

I was anticipating a trip abroad, Europe somewhere. Before leaving I wanted to entrust my notebook of important ideas to a friend.

“Here you go,” I told him somberly.

We leafed through it together. I wanted to make sure he understood my notes, my lists, my half-assed sketches for short stories or plays.

“And here’s my gun,” I said as I got up to leave, pulling it from the back of my waistband. He accepted it without concern or hesitation, as though I’d handed him a set of keys. “Don’t use it!” I warned as I walked away.

He called out to me and asked if I could bring him back two chocolate eclairs. I said yes, although I thought this was kind of a pain in the ass. Carrying them gingerly in their little box through the airport, onto the plane. Another friend who sat nearby asked me to bring him back a large coffee-table book on the subject of Italian theatre.