amber was trying to cook

even though shes the one working, and working hard, there she was on her weekend trying to cook me a late lunch

fourth of july

rarely does she get holidays off but the veterans wanted the double time so there we were sleeping in

she tried to turn on the stove but it wouldnt. she asked me to light the pilot. we have an old stove so who knows whats going on.

then she went to doing the dishes. but no hot water. i couldnt get anything going so i called the gas company. their number asked me if it was an emergency?

its not like its a gas leak, but i cant shower, do dishes or cook. yes i guess thats an emergency. amber said she was gonna take a nap. her work wears her out. i said, fine i will order some thai food cuz postmates gave me a $10 coupon.

before i knew it there was the gas man, followed quickly by palms thai. no traffic on the 4th i guess. the other day me and this uber drive were talking about how small the city is when theres no traffic. like late at night and on holidays where you can get from DTLA to the beach in minutes. or long beach to hollywood in no time.

gas guy fixed my problem in record time and as he did we talked and his stories just came out of him. am i a great interviewer? no. but people sure as hell like telling me things. he wouldnt stop. told me he had been a gas man for nearly 20 years. we talked about hollywood, beverly hills, bel air, little roads, weird houses, crazy details that youd really have to know to notice. we bonded so quickly and he just leaned against the fridge and told me everything.

“you should write a book,” i told him.

“i can’t write for shit,” he said.

“ever read Post Office,” i asked and told him about Bukowski and asked him if he ever did anything on Delongpre near Normandie. i told him thats where he lived when he wrote a bunch of his best stuff. but it all started with writing about how hard it was delivering mail in East LA when so many names were Gonzales or Hernandez.

“you should try finding the right Kim in Koreatown,” gas man laughed.

“i’m telling you you have a book.”

the more i talked about bukowski the more realized he was inches away from 20 of his books. so i gave him “Women” so he could read his style.

“i dont have Post Office. ive given mine away,” i said, “but i have two Women,” i said and we laughed at how that came out.

i shoulda just written that book with him.