86'd: A Novel - By Dan Fante Page 0,7

tie from my interview, after paying the parking valet guy at the Beverly Hills Hotel almost ten bucks to relocate my Pontiac, I found the path to the bungalows and knocked on Number 104. I was sober except for slamming three Vicodin with my morning coffee on my way driving down Venice Boulevard.

A gray-haired giant wearing a monogrammed blue robe opened the door, yawning and rubbing his eyes. “Well, Bruno Dante. This is a surprise.”

“At your service,” I said, feeling the vike buzz kicking in. “I’m ready for my first day.”

“I wasn’t sure that I’d be seeing you today.”

“I’m better,” I said. “Ninety-nine percent. Fact is I had an excellent bowel movement this morning.”

Standing on the steps outside the bungalow, it was hard not to notice that my new employer’s robe wasn’t tied all the way closed. I caught a glimpse of what might roughly approximate the genitalia of a pastured rhino behind the terry cloth.

“Wait here,” Koffman said, then disappeared into the darkness. A moment later he was back with a wad of money-clipped bills in his hand and the robe cinched closed.

After peeling off several fifties Koffman held them out toward me. “There’s a men’s store on Hollywood Boulevard,” he said. “The Manhattan Tie Shop. At the corner of Cahuenga. Ask for the manager. His name is Octavio. He’s a doll. The store sells a three-piece polyester blue business suit—the perfect chauffeur’s uniform. They charge a hundred and seventy-nine dollars. Buy two. Have the store do the alterations while you wait. Then come back here dressed for work.”

“Ten-four,” I said, half-snatching the money from his hand, wanting to appear eager and confident. “I’ll be dressed for success.”

Again Buffalo Bill eyed me up and down. “Sooo, you’re okay, ready to start your new career?”

“Nothing equals a good dump. To my way of thinking taking a decent shit is a life-affirming experience.”

“How delightful.”

“So I’ll be driving you around after I get back with my new duds?”

“I’ve got a full to-do list.”

“Swell. Have you rented another limo?”

Somewhere in the room behind my boss a curtain came open and a sudden shaft of light illuminated a person—a young Latino guy—naked from the waist up, a foot shorter than Koffman and twenty-five years younger. The kid continued moving around and getting dressed for the rest of the time me and my boss stood shooting the breeze.

“I’m picking up a Lincoln Town Car,” Koffman went on. “You’ll drive me—us—around for the rest of the day and I’ll begin your indoctrination as the first Dav-Ko employee at the California branch. Dav-Ko Hollywood. You’ll be paid in cash for the day.”

“Sounds good,” I said.

Koffman was never less than a hundred percent business. “I’ve been working with a Realtor,” he went on. “We’ve found a furnished duplex on Selma Avenue, near Highland, near Hollywood High. It’s the perfect launch pad for the new company. The bottom floor is commercial space—a former doctor’s office—and the second floor has two bedrooms and there’s a full kitchen. Granted, it’s not the most elite neighborhood in Los Angeles, but the property has a fenced yard and it’s clean and close to the freeway. And there’s off-street parking for a dozen limos…and the rent is fabulously reasonable.”

I knew the area. Years before, as a kid, I’d frequented the Baroque Bookstore, a block away on Las Palmas. Hank Chinaski and Jonathan Dante’s books were well represented at the Baroque. Red, the owner, had been a nice old guy too. But, aside from the Baroque Bookstore and Miceli’s restaurant across the street, most of the rest of the neighborhood was seedy and transient. A near slum in fact.

Koffman beamed. “I’m signing the lease this afternoon.”

“Ba-da-bing-ba-da-boom,” I said. “So I guess that’s that. Hollywood here we come!”

Koffman eyed me. “Are you okay, Bruno?”

“Clean and sober. Very okay.”

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely. I’m completely committed.”

“I have your word on that?”

“Five thousand percent.”

“Okay then. Selma Avenue will be our first stop after you get back here and pick us up. I’m excited, Bruno.”

“You bet, David. So am I.”

“My New York astrologer says I’m coming into a Mars trine aspect. Excellent for business.”

“So, I guess that means I’ll be relocating sooner than later,” I said. “So I guess you’ll want me living there?”

Koffman was smiling. “Ten-four,” he said, imitating me. “When I leave Los Angeles you’ll be in charge. I’ll be entrusting Dav-Ko L.A. to you…if you prove yourself.”

“You have my commitment,” I said.

“We’re on our way, Bruno,” he grinned. “I can feel it.”

Then Koffman swung the door open. “I want