I’ve worn stranger versions of myself than I care to admit, and somehow they all felt natural at the time.
Happyness, refracted


I juggle money, fear, and bad habits like they’re part of the same routine, and I run my mouth most when I’m scared.
The Felice Brothers, refracted


Dateline The Jazz Club: November 5th, 23:11


Grey led the way to a backroom at the club he knew about. It was not the green room, but was rather a dingy room that barely fit the six members of the group. Grey led off, seemingly determined to do the talking.

“Look here boys,” he began, “we know Maya was sent to entrap McKnight and she has done so successfully. That ends tonight.”

The heavyset Italian looked Grey up and down, not for the first time. “And what is it that you intend to do about it?” 

“Well, that’s the thing,” said Grey. We intend to grease the wheels just a little.” He paused for effect, then continued, “here are three envelopes. They contain $10,000 in cash each. We are not asking for your allegiance, or for any inside information. Instead, we want you to have these envelopes. And when your paymasters ask, and they will, what happened tonight at the club just tell them McKnight broke it off suddenly and is leaving town.”

“That’s all?” inquired the German. 

“That’s all” said Grey.

Now during all these proceedings the Thin Man felt a little odd—it was Grey’s show now. He thought about Vivian; maybe she was still at the bar? He could go back to her, he thought, if the club remained open.

In the meantime, the three associates of Pelican Corp. looked at one another. Finally, the heavyset man shrugged. “It’s pretty much what happened anyway. We get paid for telling the truth, essentially.” 

Maya chimed in. “We have a good thing going and I’m good at what I do. The Thin Man even said so. We can parlay our little gig to new opportunities, in or out of Pelican Corp.” It was clear to the Thin Man that this threesome were freelancers, contractors at best. They would look after their own, a fact Grey would have anticipated. 

“OK, deal,” said the heavyset man, who was clearly calling the shots. Now what do we get in return?”

“Apart from the cash?” asked Grey. “You also get my word on behalf of the three of us that we will make no mention of you two gentlemen’s role here tonight. Our story is the same as yours. The true story.”

The exchange was over and Maya and the men left the room quickly. The Thin Man looked at Grey. “I’m going back to the bar. What is my end tonight?”

“Well, you did flush out the two misguided tough guys and charmed Maya, however you needed my help to finish the deal. How about this, another $20,000 and an apartment for a few weeks while things calm down?”

The Thin Man thought about it. On the one hand, it was not a raise. On the other hand, Grey was not wrong, he had carried the day but for the grace of god and played things a little close to the line. “OK, I’ll take it. Can I get a fully furnished apartment with in-house laundry?”

“I think we can sort that out” said Grey. “And now you are free to pursue the night. I’ll have the money wired within 24 hours.” He stuck out his hand, which the Thin Man accepted. He turned to Ali. “Next time, Red Krayola, yeah?” 

Ali just smiled that thin smile, the only one he seemed to possess. “Sure thing boss,” he said. “I’ll upgrade.”

The Thin Man retuned to the bar where Vivian was, maybe, waiting. He sat down and ordered a Negroni. Vivian was having another Manhattan, she’d had four or five the Thin Man guessed. Within mere seconds there were touching, petting, stroking each other.  It was electric, automatic. The Thin Man felt a little overt, however the jazz band was still playing, quietly as if wrapping up. The theremin was over and they were playing straight jazz. Peter Andreessen was indeed the lead; he had actually introduced himself at some point. The atmosphere allowed for a little action.

“Where are you staying tonight?” Vivian asked. 

“I have a hotel. Will you come?”

“Yes” And that was that. Vivian and the Thin Man exited the club and the Thin Man ordered an Uber on his phone. They sat at a respectful distance in the car and walked through the hotel lobby to the elevator. No one batted an eye; they never do. They rose to the sixth floor and entered the Thin Man’s room. The Thin Man could barely get the Clientele dialed up on his phone before Vivian was all over him. He loved “The Violet Hour” the most of all.

They made out passionately and soon ended up in the shower, fully naked. Vivian washed the Thin Man with care and the Thin Man returned the gesture. Vivian had long hair and said she wouldn’t wash it, so the Thin Man washed every other area. They began to couple, but shower sex, well shower sex is an operation. After a bit the Thin Man led her out of the shower where they semi-dried off and to the bed where he climaxed, spilling on her belly. They spent the rest of the night kissing and listening to music. She liked Poison and The Rolling Stones; the Thin Man played Wild Pink and the Clientele. Vivian explained that she didn’t sleep much, and the Thin Man, though pretty beat, managed to stick with her for three or four hours before he dozed. 

The Thin Man woke, fully nude, at 8 AM sharp. Vivian was sitting up in bed, also nude. The Thin Man did not make a habit of sleeping naked, so this was, at a minimum, interesting. The kissed for a moment and the Thin Man proposed breakfast at the restaurant. They dressed, without re-showering, and took the elevator down.

Dedication: To the night that lasted three weeks.