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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 theCalifornia 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 you to meet Francisco, my lover. He’s from Guatemala. Say hola, Francisco.”
    There was the kid across the room waving shyly and mouthing the word “hi,” now with his shirt on. About twenty-five. Black hair combed straight back and copper skin with the miniature body of a gymnast. Nice even teeth too.
     
    But, as promised, I went to AA. My first meeting the next day was at a place called Architects of Adversity in West Hollywood. I looked it up on Google.
    Five minutes into the deal while the leader is reading from the meeting format, two guys started screaming at each other. Guy #1 was mad. He appeared to be about eighteen minutes off crack and the leader made the mistake of read something about God in the format. #1 stood up and stopped the leader to protest.
    Then Guy #2 told Guy #1 that if he didn’t like what he was hearing then he should find another meeting. So naturally now Guy #1 loses it. He picks up his folding chair and begins screaming fuck this and fuck that and knocks his coffee cup over on the table soaking some woman’s purse. Turns out thisis her best I. Magnin purse or some shit and now she’s pissed too because of the coffee stain.
    Enough was enough. I decided to leave.
    Outside, in front of the meeting hall, there’s a guy just lighting up a cigarette. He’s wearing a wool cap and a heavy black suede coat in the eighty-degree heat. I asked him for a light.
    “That