By Dan Fante
In la, suffering telemarketer-writer and part-time inebriated Bruno Dante is jobless back. The e-book of his publication of brief tales has been eliminate indefinitely. looking out the wish advertisements for a gig, he reveals a chauffeur task. whilst Bruno calls the quantity within the advert, he discovers the boss is his former big apple business enterprise David Koffman, who's beginning a West Coast department of his thriving limo carrier. Koffman hires Bruno as resident supervisor of Dav-Ko Hollywood lower than one : he needs to stay sober. yet fast company good fortune triggers an abrupt booze-and-blackout-soaked downward spiral for Bruno, forcing him to confront his personal insanity as he struggles to maintain his outdated commonplace demons from getting the easiest of him over again.
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Extra info for 86'd: A Novel (P.S.)
Lost. As dead as my dead com puter. Then, over and over, the crazy rerun of the incident with Portia and the knowledge that there was a good chance I had permanently damaged myself with Dav-Ko. If the skinny English girl decided to, if she saw fit to spill her guts to Koffman, I’d be jobless and homeless too. The damage would be complete. When I peeled the tape and gauze away from my cut I discovered a quarter-inch-wide scab forming down the side of my neck. There was no bleeding, so no medical attention would be necessary.
I…I,” I said. “Would you mind…if…very much…” The blue-gray eyes fixed on me. “Speak up, Dante, for the love of God. I’m eighty-seven. ” I blurted. C. was beaming. “A man was starving in Capri,” she quoted. “He moved his eyes and looked at me…” “I know that one too,” I shot back, amazed at myself. ” “Not bad, Mr. Dante. You’ve read Millay. You may send me your work, or bring it. ” “I’ll drop it by tomorrow. ” No reply. The door slammed and she was gone. Inside to the darkness with her mystic Tahuti.
For the last few years Ricardo Dante had been the general manager of a factory that manufactured shipping pallets, a grunt job he’d taken for money to support his family after drinking himself out of the aerospace business. At Rick’s home that afternoon I met a dozen people; friends and neighbors and a couple of my brother’s coworkers. They sat in the living room while the air conditioner screamed, sipping wine and ice tea and eating from two prepared supermarket trays of cheese and salami and crackers.
86'd: A Novel (P.S.) by Dan Fante