believing every word he spoke. For the sake of my book’s completion, I believed fully in everything he conveyed. I did it so the audience would do the same from page to page! Because how could I sell a book about a womanizing, self-indulgent supermarket employee if . . . he wasn’t one?
If I didn’t believe it, my audience wouldn’t.
And just like that, the cupcake tattoo was real, both in my mind and in my book. The cupcake was there and all doubt about Frank’s stories was thrown from my mind, and . . . I was inspired again! The writer’s block was gone and I could feel all the things I had to write about coming to me!
“Yo, help me fuck Rachel, man!” Frank said into the phone.
“What?” I replied, feeling energized. Feeling the best I had in weeks.
“Go tell her ya boy Frank likes her. We’ve never formally met, so it will be awesome. Like some seventh-grade shit,” he said.
“Okay, sure, man. Let’s discuss it at the store.”
Frank agreed and I hung up. After the phone call I jumped into bed feeling rejuvenated.
The first thing that came to mind was Mia. I couldn’t help but think of Mia and how beautiful she was. How I missed her. How I wanted to kiss her again. I hadn’t seen her in the few days I took to myself, so I was very much so looking forward to seeing her. I thought to myself, I should take her on a date.
Tomorrow was the last day I had off before I headed back to work.
With that thought in mind, I fell asleep.
I woke up feeling great. I asked Mia to meet me at this Putt-Putt golf spot at seven that evening for a much-needed date. But I had the whole day until then to do whatever the hell I wanted.
I grabbed Bennett’s red collar from the top of the dresser and took him on our morning walk. I never left it on him when we were home, figuring it was uncomfortable for him. On my way out, I saw Mrs. Huffle in the stairwell. Like always, she was very sweet and asked how my dog was doing, as if he weren’t right there in front of her. She was kinda batty, really.
Like always, people gave me and Bennett super-strange looks on our walk.
I never understood why. I mean, he wasn’t exactly the cutest dog, I guess that was it. Man, people can be so superficial.
We walked around, ending up at this park by my house on Bleeker Street, then we played fetch with the red rubber ball—the same one I bounced thinking of ideas to write. It was nice to just chill with Bennett. I don’t know why, but whenever we hung out I got the same feeling I did when I hung around Frank—I was definitely entertained, I’ll tell you that.
Later in the afternoon, back at my house, I decided to clean up the place. It was pretty messy, and who knew? Maybe Mia would end up coming back later that night if I was lucky.
I had a few framed pictures I had collected in the time I had been living in the apartment, along with busts and other collectables, but I’d never found the time to properly decorate the place. Down the street was this awesome store called Blast from the Past. They had all sorts of amazing memorabilia, T-shirts, and busts—anything collectable. But the thing they had that was super awesome was their poster selection. I had befriended a guy who worked there named Duncan. He was British and seemed to be of mixed race. He was definitely black, but very light-skinned. Super nerdy, but he had a cool vibe about him. I always wondered what the hell he was doing in the States, working at a place like that, but I never asked. I did, however, know he really enjoyed it.
Every time I went there he was pretty stoned. We would talk Star Wars and other fun sci-fi shit. Anyway, it was definitely my favorite place to waste my time. That and Fisher’s Vinyl Village.
I absolutely love music and vinyl. I mean, even now as I’m writing and you’re reading, there’s a record spinning next to me. Today’s twelve-inch of choice is an album called Salad Days by Mac DeMarco. He’s one of my all-time favorites.
Anyway, I spent the next few hours hanging up posters of all my favorite stuff. Futurama, Star Wars, anything Seth MacFarlane—especially The Orville.