August 27, 2007
Live Blogging from the Coffee Bean on Lankershim
A few minutes ago, Lacey called my cell. “Goddammit!” she bellowed. “What is your fucking problem?”
“Can I call you back?” I asked. “I’m in line at the Coffee Bean and—”
“You will not hang up on me!” she growled. “You’ll step out of line and wait until I’ve said what I have to say.”
I looked at the long line and said, “Look, Lacey—”
“But nothing! How dare you dismiss what we talked about not one hour ago? Instead of listening to me, you write on your fucking blog that you are going to create a sham charity. Do you know how illegal that is?”
“That’s only if you’re doing it as a tax cheat,” I said plainly. “I’m doing it to get some good PR.”
“First of all, I’m pretty sure it’s still illegal—”
“Intention is nine-tenths of law.”
“Possession, you fucking—look, don’t fuck with me, McDürchstein. I know all your stupid-ass little games, and I know you know exactly what you’re doing, even if I don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Shouldn’t you put the emphasis on I?”
“Fuck you! Take that blog post down, or at least edit it so it appears I’ve taken no active role in helping you defraud the United States government,” Lacey said. “Somebody’s going to jail, and it’s not gonna be me!”
“Haven’t you ever heard ‘honesty is the spice of life’?” I asked.
“First: no. Second: if you value honesty so much, maybe I should just tell Margo about you and me and what happened two years ago in—”
“No!” I screamed. “It was a moment of weakness.”
“My ass!”
“Yes…” I said, finding myself breathing heavily. “Your ass, indeed.” I reached into the tight pocket of my leather pants.
“So we have an understanding?”
“I think so,” I panted.
“I’m going to hang up now because the sounds you’re making—I don’t want to hear them.”
“All righ—”
Click.
Written by Girth McDürchstein on August 27, 2007 3:01 PM
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