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Lunch with Dr. Benway

I’m having lunch again, with Dr Benway. He’s concerned again by both my divorce and my unpaid bill.

“How have you been? How’s the writing going?” He asks with a sideways glance.

“Miserable” I say with a crappy French accent, just for fun.

“Well, you’ve got that going for you. Great art never came out of anyone feeling fucking happy”. He dinged his fork against his water glass and signaled el mesero. He pauses, gives me a brief look of the kind I know all to well these days.

“That means you won’t be settling my bill today.” The uncomfortable truth needed no verbal reply. I shifted in my white linen suit. “There’s the other thing.” I told him.

He put his fork back in his shaved fennel. This was the cue for the waiter to refill our water glasses. “thank you asshole” the doctor says, toasting the waiter with his water glass.

“I’ve done it” I tell him.

The doctor smiles. He seems to pause to rub his crotch.  “You have the ear?” He asks.

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