He brought me a coffee. I had the flu for, like, ten days and am kind of only now getting back on my feet. And he called me up and was like,

What can I get for ya?

Coffee.

For real? Don’t you have a machine?

Yeah, but I want one from Tolluci Brother’s

(the girl they have there makes the best cappuccino – she’s not a ‘barista’ or anything, she’s just some nice girl from Grosseto who want to hang out in NYC and maybe get married – and work for the brother’s. I don’t know what the place is really called, it’s not Tolluci’s but that’s who owns it right now and how everyone knows it.)

You don’t ask for much, do you? Gimme about half an hour.

(So he brings me the coffee which was nice, though it’s on the way. And he looked like shit, I gotta say.)

You look worse than I feel. You OK?

Nah, things are kind of fucked up lately. I got a call from Bern the other day; he’s back in jail.

Sorry to hear that.

Well, jail, you expect that, a guy like Bern. But he’s sick as shit and they’re not gonna take care of him right.

You gonna go down there? Help him out?

No, maybe in January. And then, look, don’t laugh but I was kind of worried that you had the Ebola.

Seriously?

Yeah, your neighbor just got back from there and all.

He’s a doctor.

Don’t matter. They have no idea how it gets around.

Sure they do.

I don’t think so. Not really.

Well, I’m on the mend. How’s your book coming?

Valeriya Malinovskiya? I dunno. It’s coming. they gave me some money, so I gotta finish it but damn.

Yeah?

It’s not as easy as just bullshitting.

Yeah, that’s why Clive Cussler and them get the big bucks.