86'd: A Novel - By Dan Fante Page 0,6

expression infecting his face, he covered my hands with his massive paws in a misguided dumbfuck homosexual attempt to soothe me. “I know you’re upset, Bruno,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”

Now I was impaled, pinned to the formica by a gay Hulk Hogan in a milkman’s uniform. “Okay, Jesus,” I howled. “Yes I am. I’m upset. I admit it.”

“Please listen carefully, Bruno. Just try to let in what I’m saying. I’m offering you an excellent opportunity—a live-in chauffeur manager position. Are you interested?”

“Jesus—of course I’m fuckin’ interested! I want the job.”

“Good.”

A minute or two later, as I was sliding across the booth’s fake-leather bench seat to get to my feet, somehow the trembling butt of my hand came down on the outer rim of my coffee cup. Its contents were launched across the table and landed on the sleeve of David Koffman’s white jacket. It didn’t help seal the deal. It just happened.

I was half-sure I’d blown it until he phoned me the next day. One of his ex-lovers had been an active New York City AA guy. Based on that, in the end, Koffman must’ve decided he’d take a chance. His one condition was simple and straightforward: He knew I’d been drinking. He insisted that I attend twelve-step meetings.

“You and I have worked together before with good results,” he said. “I realize I’m taking a big chance but I’m betting with an opportunity like this one, you’ll clean up your act.”

“You won’t be sorry,” I said.

“Will you do it?” he asked. “Will you cut down on your alcohol consumption and go to meetings?”

“Absolutely. One thousand percent!” I shot back. “You can count on it. You have my word. And I’ll pay the cleaning bill for your jacket too.”

My new boss told me that we would sign a contract for the job. It would include medical insurance and a paid vacation and a 25 percent partnership after six months if I managed not to screw the pooch. Also, because of Koffman’s kinkiness for honesty, if I was somehow arrested and convicted of a crime, other than a traffic ticket, for any reason, the deal would be void.

That afternoon when I opened my e-mail, I saw something that drove me to my keyboard. I’d been receiving more than my share of crazy spam solicitations from Africa. People telling me I’d won some fucking lottery or another, or that they wanted to split some inheritance or annuity or some goddamn thing. This one was from some conniving bitch impersonating a princess. Here’s the letter I wrote. After I finished it I bummed four stamps from Uncle Bill then took it to the post office:

Crown Princess Makeba Urabe (Deposed)

18 Rue Marselles

Zimbabwe—AFRICA

Hello Dearest Princess:

I have no idea how you got my e-mail address but I consider it a treasured blessing to have received your vital correspondence. How gracious and kind you are, dear one, to make me such a generous, even dare I say, unselfish, offer. Your description of your plight and your efforts to recover your stolen family fortune from the evil and tyrannous political opportunists who have betrayed you brought me to tears and opened my heart to you big-time.

You mention that all you require is $50,000 to travel to Europe and recover the 3,000,000 pounds sterling awaiting you at the Royal Bank of England. Then you will reclaim your fortune. And, let me make sure that I get this down correctly; you are offering me $500,000 in return!! I am breathless! I cannot believe your kindness! Dear and gracious Princess, how giving and momentous can one person be? All I can say is, thank you, and gee whiz!

Our local prayer circle meets the day after tomorrow. We will hold your success and well-being and the restoration of your title and fortune in our hearts from then on, with HE who presides over us all.

I am confident that I can speak for my fellow parishioners when I tell you that we will vote to put ourselves at your immediate disposal. This is your hour of need and I’m quite sure everyone will be in agreement. Therefore, I am confident that you can expect our check for not $50,000 but $60,000—almost immediately. Also, as you astutely suggest, we will include our church’s wire-routing checking-account number, should there be any confusion regarding the cashing of our check.

Dearest one, please wait at your mailbox daily for the funds to arrive.

Your newest and most ardent admirer,

Bruno Dante

666 Ohsureur Drive

Gulfport, MS 39501

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The next morning, wearing the same puked-on