The Saturday Morning Post #14, Finale

Here is the final installment of the novella. You can catch up to last week’s installment here or start at the top with excerpts from the short stories here.

TAKING HOPE

The crowd started to thin out after A-Pop left, mostly because it was getting late, but DJGomes and VJBDJ didn’t let that deter them, and the place was flooded with pumping EDM from the end of A-Pop until the end of the party, at four o’clock Monday morning. Toby and Adrian had stayed until the end of that show, at which point both of them looked at each other, and both of them felt some kind of dread that the other wanted to leave.

But Adrian broke the silence. “So… we don’t have to hang out together, boss,” he said, “But if we’re either off tomorrow or you have a business call in a couple of hours — ”

“Off tomorrow,” Toby cut him off to answer. “So hang around as long as you want.”

“It’s totally innocent,” Adrian replied. “I mean, whether I’m on the clock or not.”

“I don’t care,” Toby said. “Do what or whom you want to, whenever you want to.”

“I would,” Adrian finally replied nervously, “But that’s okay. It’s all ace.”

“Ooh. You feel like ice cream?” Toby suddenly said excitedly.

Adrian just smiled. “Sure. But what’s open at this hour?”

“Follow me,” Toby nodded, and led him to the top of the middle of the park,where they went to the station to wait for whichever train came first, the B or the D line. Their routes overlapped briefly so either would get them to where they were going. The D line won, so they hopped on and headed back up two stations, past Pershing Square and then getting off at the 7th Street Metro. Once above ground, they walked a block down 7th from Flower to Hope and came to a Walgreens. Toby still remembered that infamous night there at about this time of day on the early morning before the earthquake, and he noticed by Adrian’s expression that he probably remembered the story, too.

“Is this…?” he trailed off and glanced up.

“Yep,” Toby replied, and they walked in.

There wasn’t a crowd this morning. The place was practically deserted. They went back to the freezer case and were confronted by what Toby knew as The Paradox of Choice. There were so many flavors that it would be hard to decide for someone who didn’t have a favorite, but Toby didn’t have that problem. He used to be a fan of rocky road, but after the quake he had drifted toward butter pecan. While it had similar qualities when it came to “mouth feel,” the flavors and aromas were far more relaxing and sophisticated.

As for Adrian, he kept wavering back and forth between all of the varieties that only involved chocolate —chocolate chip, chocolate chip cookie dough, chocolate fudge brownie, chocolate fudge swirl, chocolate peanut butter, chocolate peppermint, chocolate trio, chocolate vanilla swirl, chocolate with OREO bits, chocolate with ‘Smores, mint chocolate chip, red velvet, and, of course, rocky road.

And then there were the brands, each of which had most of those flavors, or their own variations: Ben & Jerry’s, Breyers, Dreyer’s, Häagen-Dazs, Halo Top, Nice (the Walgreens house brand), and Tillamook.

That all worked out to 91 possible predominantly chocolate-based variations.. Never mind all of the other main flavor bases — vanilla and all of the fruits. And don’t forget to give some room for sorbet and frozen yogurt and non-dairy. Or sizes. Pint, quart, half gallon, gallon? “Fun cup?”

Have you ever wondered why the ice-cream aisle in a store’s frozen section takes up so much room? Well, there’s your answer. And don’t forget all of the “frozen novelties” — ice cream sandwiches and bars, popsicles, fudgesicles, Otter Pops, Klondike Bars, ice bombs, and even Frosty Paws dog “ice cream.”

This was one crowded department. Now, Walgreens did tone it down by including only the brands that gave them the best margins and least complicated ordering process, so… Ben & Jerry’s, Dreyer’s, and Tillamook. If the manager had had her druthers, she wouldn’t have carried Nice, but she had no choice, for reasons that should be obvious from three paragraphs back. In order to cram it all into the space she had, she only stocked pints and quarts, and allowed in Häagen-Dazs pints of the three most popular flavors in the area, but those were only available in a so-called “coffin cooler” near the front of the store.

If you’re not getting that term… it’s a top-loading freezer with, usually, glass doors on top that either slide or lift, and all of the product is displayed stacked underneath. Retailers since time immemorial took to calling it a “coffin cooler” because you had to lift the lid to get to the cold, hard stuff.

But, Adrian and Toby don’t know any of this, and by this point it’s about a quarter past four in the morning. They’d made good time hiking up Grand Park and also lucked out in hitting the station right as a train arrived, so overall it had only taken them about ten minutes to get here.

Toby could see Adrian’s brain practically melting over the options and he really felt sorry for him, so he finally just said, matter-off-factly, “By the way, I gave you another bonus after we convinced the mayor to screw with Wendy, and it should be in your account by now. Buy yourself something nice, but the docking or hangar fees are all going to be on you.”

Adrian just turned to Toby, gawked for an instant, then opened the cooler and quietly pulled out two pints: Tillamook chocolate peanut butter, and Ben & Jerry’s chocolate fudge brownie.

“Good man,” Toby said, and they headed for the checkout, where the manager that Toby had once thought of as a tiny transwoman had now become a person in his mind, because he’d gotten to know her over the last couple of months. Her name was Ramona, and she was working her way through law school at Loyola downtown. Yes, she was transgender, but Toby had long since stopped thinking of her as anything other than her preferred pronouns and gender. Or, as he liked to think of them, her real ones. She’d taught him a lot.

He also knew that most people of his class would find it very weird that he loved walking down here, often in the middle of the night, to buy things that he could have (in their minds, should have) ordered from the best names in the world: toiletries from Bolin Webb, Clinique, DIOR, Erno Lazlo, Foreo, Kiehl’s, Tom Ford, Truefitt & Hill, and on and on. “Prove your worth by having them sent next day a.m. from Harrods. Don’t cheap out by ordering American!”

“Or, for god’s sake, order your ice cream from the Langham Hotel in Chicago, Maubossin in Manhattan, or Serendipity 3 in New York, so you can at least say that you’ve paid a respectable $1,000 for a pint, minus express shipping by private jet on dry ice. Otherwise, you’re embarrassing your class!”

God, Toby hated rich people, himself most of all. He noticed that Adrian hadn’t checked yet, but this latest bonus to him would probably also be the last one — not because Toby would be inclined to cut them off, but because he had finally realized that Adrian was worthy of elevation, since he wasn’t like the others who would insist on dropping a grand into another billionaire’s pocket for ice cream just to brag about it. The last one Adrian had gotten was six digits. This one is eight. In fact, Toby had looked it up. Adrian is 27, so he made it for a gross of $27,000,000, but then structured it as a dividend payout, rather than income, so he wouldn’t get fucked on the taxes like the little people do. He’d net about $23,000,000, and Toby knew that Adrian would know what to do with that kind of money and not become an asshole.

They got into line with their ice cream in hand behind four other people, and Toby noted that two of them were “Karens.” Great. And those two were followed by a bathtub. And then Toby looked at the guy ahead of him in line and thought, “Oh, holy fuck. What are the odds of this?”

He couldn’t forget the face he’d studied so intently just over five months ago, the man he’d spoken to, and the literal shitshow that had happened. Although something seemed different about him today. He wasn’t buying toilet paper, and he didn’t have the same hollow-eyed desperation. Instead, he had a couple of greeting cards in his hand, which seemed totally anachronistic in this day and age, although medical science was getting better at keeping centenarians around, so who knew?

The transformation Toby saw was amazing. This man seemed totally together. And it was definitely the same guy, so Toby leaned forward and said, “Perdóneme… ¿nos hemos conocidos anteriormente?”

The man turned, took one look at Toby, and just stared in amazement.

“Oh my god,” he muttered. “I remember you.”

“You speak English?” Toby asked.

“Of course I speak English.”

“But that night…”

“I speak both. Oh… I guess you do too. Yeah, I just tend to go to my native language when I’m feeling distressed, which I obviously was. But here’s the thing I never forgot. You were the one person who didn’t look at me with disgust or hate when… well… you know. ‘It’ happened. And I’ve always felt like you would have helped if I hadn’t run because I felt so goddamn ashamed.”

“Wait,” Toby said. “What? Oh my god… you have just forgiven me such a huge sin… Oh. My name’s Toby. Toby Arnott. And you are…?”

“Winford,” the man replies. “Well, to friends. Dr. Quintana to my patients.”

“You’re an MD?” Toby asks, seeming flustered.

“Yes,” Dr. Winford Quintana replies, “And that was why what you saw happen happen.”

“My god, I totally misread you,” Toby said.

“Yeah, I guessed that.”

“Holy crap,” Adrian suddenly piped up. Is he…”

“Yes, and shut up,” Toby shot back tersely.

“Oh, it’s okay,” Winford said.

“How did all of that happen, though?” Toby asked, feeling very awkward, but the doctor seemed very inclined to explain.

“Pardon my French, but goddamn dumbass anti-vax parents. Our ER was jammed about a week before with tons of kids having symptoms, and tons of idiot parents trying to get the staff to only use homeopathic or “holistic” treatments, and god, I wish that I could ban people like that from the campus in a heartbeat. But… no.

“Now, I’m not working ER that night, but I am working intake with the actual urgent non-measles cases getting passed through. The problem is, the volume in ER is so high that people are getting sloppy, especially with hygiene, and somewhere along the way, somebody with giardia comes in dirty, but I don’t know it. Hospital intake isn’t a sterile environment because it’s just assumed that all precautions have been taken on the way. So… I’m not absolutely sure who, but pretty sure that the intake exam I did on this fourteen-year-old soccer player from City of Angels High School blasted me with the parasite and I didn’t know it.

“Why would I? He presented with a broken leg, compound fracture. What I didn’t know is that he’d just come back from a team trip to Guatemala. Also, he had a minor case of diarrhea, and didn’t mention (until much later to his mother when the hospital asked) that he’d basically had an aerosol shart on the way from ER to my exam. And, since I’d assumed procedures had happened, well, kind of my fault, too, for not dipping the entire room in alcohol.

“By the time I was almost home and this shit, pardon the expression, caught up with me a week later, I realized that I’d need some heavy-lifting, and, how do the kids say it? An attempt was made. And you saw it fail.”

“Anyway, since that night, I’ve always imagined that I’ve turned into a case of ‘The Fortunate Fart’ around here.”

“Oh my god, you know that?” Adrian suddenly spoke up. Toby was about to rebuke him, but Winford smiled back and said, “Yes. You’re a fan of folklore?”

“For sure, doc. Did you know Abraham Lincoln used to love to tell a version of that story, mostly as a way of figuring out whether — ”

“—whether to trust politicians or lobbyists?” they finished together, and Winford gushed. “Yes!”

“Oh, wow,” Adrian added.

“Okay,” Toby said. “So… Oh what’s that old line from the movie? I have a feeling that — ”

“— this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” Adrian and Winford chimed in in unison.

“Fuck this ice cream,” Toby announced. “You, buy your cards, but I have a fantastic idea.”

“What’s that?” Adrian asked.

“Breakfast?” Toby said. “The Pantry isn’t that far away, and I feel like that place fits the theme of now.”

“What?” Winford asked. “Hungry people?”

“No,” Toby replied. “Forgiveness. You don’t know the story, do you?”

Winford and Adrian both shrugged, and Adrian sighed, then went on. “It’s a total bullshit legend, of course,” he said. “But the rumor is that this place used to only hire ex-convicts and felons in order to rehabilitate them.”

“Is that true?” Adrian asked.

Winford and Toby looked at each other, smiled, and said, “Nah.”

“But who cares?” Toby added. “Sometimes, the sentiment is far more important than the truth.”

And so the three of them walked out of Walgreens, ice cream put back into the coolers but Winford’s greeting cards safely in his suit-coat pocket, and they turned the corner and walked from 7th to 9th, taking Hope all the way.

* * *

The Saturday Morning Post #14, Part 6

More of the L.A. social event of 2029. You can catch up to last week’s installment here or start at the top here.

TAKING HOPE

Adam and Tony had finished getting dressed and exited by the time the crowd went wild, and there was a sudden very bizarre opening medley of greatest hits. Both of them knew that their parents had liked this music, and their grandparents more so, and while they didn’t have a lot of experience, the women in question were still iconic enough that they knew their names, at least.

“We should watch this, dude,” Tony commented and Adam just nodded agreement and took his arm and they wandered across the street to the bottom of City Hall steps to try to find a good viewpoint.

“Oh my god, did I just cum so hard I died?” Tycho announced to his group. They had managed to snag a spot center stage, at the bottom of City Hall steps, so they essentially had front row seats, and Tycho had been a big fan of two of these women since forever, thanks to his favorite gay uncle having exposed him to their music.

Finley had no idea who any of them were except Cher, and he was kind of a fan, but more of her movies than her music. James couldn’t care less about Bette or Cher, but had been a Barbra queen since forever. Adam and Tony only knew their names, but Bette seemed to be the funniest one with the best jokes, and even if the music was way too last century for them, they still dug the personalities. It was like three naughty grandmas just letting loose and having fun.

Jackson and Cindy were huddled together against one of the multi-lingual steles declaring the place “The park for everyone,” really enjoying what to them was a nostalgic trip back to elementary school when each of these women had first started to become popular. When he was nine, Jackson’s parents started to watch Sonny and Cher on TV, and they didn’t go off the air until he was fifteen, so he thought it was just one show that had been on a long time. What he never realized back then is that The Sonny & Cher Comedy Hour ran from 1971 to 1974, and then The Sonny and Cher Show came on in 1976, but only lasted a year.

He vaguely remembered some Bette Midler song from around sixth grade that sounded like it was from WW II and was very up-tempo and fun, but was never really into Barbra because most of her stuff was just too slow.

Cindy mostly remembered Cher for her song Dark Lady, which was all over the radio starting from when she was about nine. She’d been a little too young to remember Gypsies, Tramps & Thieves, but Jackson certainly did. And two of Cindy’s favorite films, which came out during and just after her junior year of college, starred Bette Midler — oddly enough playing two different characters named “Barbara,” in Down and Out in Beverly Hills and Ruthless People. Now that woman was funny. When the icons were finished, Jackson gave Cindy “that” look, and she just smiled back. They walked out of the park hand-in-hand and rode the A Line back out to where they had parked somewhere with a lot more space and much cheaper, as in free. Sure, Jackson could have easily afforded to drive all the way downtown, or even rented a self-driver for the day, but neither Cindy nor he wanted to appear to be part of the upper-crust, preferring to hang with the real people at the bottom of the Park for Everyone.

After this part of the concert was over, Tycho and Finley decided to wander off and James followed. Tony wanted to go, too, but Adam insisted that they stay.

“It’s late, babes,” Tony replied.

“I know, but come on. Next up is Shakira, Maluma, Pit Bull, and some secret special guest. No way are we leaving now.”

“Really? Tony protested.

“If you stay,” Adam told him in a sing-song, “I will fuck you to within an inch of your life once we get home.”

“Can the other guys watch?” Tony asked.

“Duh,” Adam teased back.

“Okay, then!” Tony smiled and they held hands and wandered around the crowd until the next performance started at 10:30. Along the way, they ran into Rafael and Vince, who were there for the same reasons. No way in hell was Rafael going to miss this one, and he dragged his bromantic partner along.

A half hour into that show, the reception in upper Grand Park for the rich people came to an end, and the staff began ushering them out, with Park staff guiding them up the hill to 2 Grand Avenue, which was the designated loading area for their various limos. People this rich simply did not “park” anywhere, and god forbid they drove themselves, although a good number of them arrived in their self-driving cars and then sent them off to wait until summoned at one of the special “robo-park” garages around the area. These were basically giant car filing cabinets that used vertical space.

The typical configuration comprised six lifts next to each other with thirty stacked spaces, and what was essentially an elevator shaft going up and down thirty floors above and below street level. They would load from the top down, first come, first served, and self-driving cars only. A car would drive in, payment would be authorized wirelessly, and the preferred charging method would be instigated, whether via plug-in or battery swap. Some of them even offered brushless washing. After each car, the lift would rise to make the next space available, and so on,

This meant that one of these garages could pack 180 cars into the parking footprint of six spaces and, since the part going up, but especially the part going down, was essentially just an elevator shaft with no cables — the whole thing was driven by ratcheted motors — construction was fairly cheap.

As for the guests, the park employees had herded all of them to the top level of the park above the fountain within twenty minutes, and the main reception area was vacant of all but staff. They had already gotten the message to assemble in the Mosk Courthouse lobby after the party shut down, and the people giving the message had acted sufficiently anxious, so everyone was a bit nervous and on edge, most of them wondering, “Damn. What did we fuck up?”

Alejandra finally entered, and went into her best actress mode to appear pissed as hell. She paced back and forth in tense silence a few times, shooting an occasional look at the staff, none of whom made eye-contact. Finally, she stopped and said, in her best sarcastic tone, “Yeah, I want to thank you all so much for your ‘help’ with my only daughter’s wedding.”

“I noticed that none of you had anything at all to do with convincing our various guests to open their wallets and donate tonight.” She knew that this would get an angry but hidden reaction, because she had never said that was part of the job. She let it rest for a moment, then decided to give the big reveal. She had tortured them enough.

“Of course, that’s because no one asked you to. That was my job, and they sure as hell donated to charity tonight. Thanks to them, we took in over a hundred million dollars for my favorite charity.”

This was met with a lot of nonplussed looks, as in, “Okay, so?”

“Oh, silly me. I forgot to mention my favorite charity. And that each beneficiary of that charity is going to get about two hundred grand.” She took a dramatic pause, then gestured toward the staff. “Um… that’d be you. All of you. You’ve done a fantastic job making this event a success, and your bonuses are going to net out to just what I said.”

She had brought the crowd from confusion to disbelief, but then members of her accounting staff began to pass out the checks. Archaic, she knew, but this would have more impact, and she watched as people quickly ripped open the envelopes, looked at the amounts, and most of them suddenly started crying tears of absolute and sincere joy.

“See, if you hadn’t made things run so smoothly, nobody would have been inclined to donate anything. So, no, I never asked you to make our guests open their wallets tonight because I didn’t have to. You did it all on your own, and on top of that, you made this one of the best nights of my life, along with my family. On behalf of my daughter, son-in-law, his parents, my husband, and the City and County of Los Angeles, I thank you all from the bottom of my heart. Now head on down to City Hall and enjoy the rest of the People’s Concert. You’ve earned it!”

She blew them a kiss and exited, and the room erupted into chatter, cheers, hysterically happy tears, group hugs, and general jubilation.

It actually wasn’t until Alejandra left her bonus ceremony that Adrian finally managed to buttonhole her and introduce himself to her. As soon as he said the words “Toby Arnot,” though, she started to pull away, but Adrian went into full-on schmooze mode and told her, “He’s actually very anti-gentrification, and if you just give him five minutes, I’m sure you’ll want to help him.”

“He has two,” she snapped. “Starting now.”

Adrian hustled her to where Toby had been waiting, not ten seconds away, and he wasted no time launching into his spiel. He explained how he wanted to maintain a former motel with affordable housing, as well as support an arts group and Alejandra seemed interested but indifferent. But then he uttered what were apparently the magic words. “Wendy Rue is trying to eminent domain both properties and — ”

And that was as far as he got. “— and turn the places into unaffordable housing for foreign billionaires who really shouldn’t own shit here. Right?” Adian and Toby nodded. “I’ve heard enough,” she said. “I’ll make a note, and first thing Tuesday, I’m going to file the RAI on her. Just send me the property addresses. Actually, do you know of anything else in the area she’s trying to pull the ED on?”

“No,” Toby said, “But I can find out.”

“Well, so can I. On second thought, I’m just going to put out a general RAI on anything in her district.”

“Thank you so much,” Toby told her.

“No,” she replied. “Thank you. And you,” she added, nodding to Adrian. “Without people like you to point out how the elected are trying to abuse the city, we don’t really know. We’ll be in touch.”

“Do you need my — ”

“No, Toby,” she replied. “Everyone downtown knows who you are!”

She walked away and Toby turned to Adrian with the biggest grin Adrian had ever seen on his boss. “Wow,” Toby muttered. “Beyond amazing!”

Adrian’s knees went a little weak on that one, wondering what kind of bonus was going to come from the superlative version of the magic six-digit bonus phrase.

Mission accomplished, the two of them finally wandered down to the People’s Concert, arriving just before the start of the portion featuring A-Pop, a boy band from Asia with members from China, Japan, Korea, and Thailand — Li-Wei, Hiroji, Seojun, and Kiet. They were known all around the world, so didn’t require family names, and the crowd went nuts when they took the stage.

* * *

 

The Saturday Morning Post #14, Part 3

Today brings us to the third part of the closing novella, which takes place at the wedding of the daughter of the mayor of Los Angeles and brings all of the main characters together at one event.  You can catch up to last week’s installment here or start at the top here. Last week, we saw the wedding ceremony and the plans for the post-wedding receptions, public and private. Now, we catch up with our main characters as they celebrate.

TAKING HOPE

Toby’s reason for getting to the wedding and bringing Adrian along had a single purpose. His attempts to rebuild Edna’s property had hit a brick wall, and it was called Wendy Rue, the City Council representative for the 10th District, although Toby thought of her more as the big developer’s rep for herself. Less than two weeks after the quake, she was making pronouncements about rebuilding her district, but she was so far in the back pockets of the developers that what this really meant was eminent-domaining the shit out of any red-tagged property slated for demolition, and then tossing out the building permits for luxury condos like they were, well, birdseed at a wedding.

She had set her sights on Edna’s property early on, with dreams of putting up a fifty story mixed-use commercial property and luxury hotel, and Toby had sicced his lawyers on her almost immediately. Luckily, he didn’t live in the 10th. He lived and did business in the 13th, and that council member, Jay Beeber, hated the gentrification of the city with a passion. Toby knew him personally — he was a major campaign donor — and Jay was trying to talk sense into Wendy on Toby’s behalf, but she was having none of it.

At least Toby had managed to get an injunction against the imminent domain attempt back in July, but it was only for 90 days, so there wasn’t a lot of time left.

So his quest at the wedding was to get some face time with Alejandra, explain what was going on, and asking her to intercede. Fortunately, because of the various scandals back in ‘23 that had seen half of the Council Members recalled and half of the rest lose their re-elections, the replacements had actually passed laws giving the Mayor a lot more power over them, akin to what governors and the president had in terms of veto power, something that had long been lacking. This also included a very California innovation, borrowed from San Francisco, and it was called the Right of Absolute Intervention or, as the public had dubbed it, giving the mayor teeth.

In short, any government contract that a single council member or the entire council chose to enter into could be voided, without penalty, by the mayor, and without appeal short of a two-thirds majority referendum vote by either the district in question or the city at large, whichever applied.

And that was what Toby was banking on, since he knew Alejandra’s leanings, and once he’d gotten the chance to explain to her that he was determined to create what would truly be low income housing for people in need, he had no doubt that she would bare her teeth and bite Wendy Rue off at the knees.

He just needed to actually get that time with her and, honestly, the only person busier than the happy couple at a wedding were the mothers of both of them. That was why he brought Adrian. The kid was amazing and brilliant, and if Toby couldn’t get to her, Adrian would.

Alice and Edna couldn’t have been happier when they walked the green carpet and entered the cathedral, which was awe-inspiring inside. They were even more blown away when they were shown their seats, to the left of the altar and in the front row. Then again, this was well after their wedding outfits and shoes had been delivered to them, “Courtesy of the Bride and Groom,” although those weren’t quite a surprise, since a nice young man named Finley had come out to measure them.

They hadn’t known each other before now, but when they’d been introduced in line by the kid named Adrian they’d both met, they formed an immediate connection. After all, they were property owners on the 3400 block of West 8th Street in Koreatown, Adrian and Toby were trying to help out both of them, and while only Edna had been directly threatened by that City Council woman whose name she refused to remember, Alice had known of and hated her for years, because she did not understand the value of the arts, and had constantly lobbied Alice with ineffective bribes to try to get her to move out in order to raze the building and put up a boutique hotel on top of a bunch of upscale shops.

When that woman had visited her in person to try to push her agenda, it was the one and only time in her life that Alice said the words, “Fuck you” to another person. This managed to make the City Councilor stalk off in high dudgeon, as well as get a round of applause from her students, who had been standing behind her at the time. That applause was the only thing that made her not feel utterly ashamed for having been so rude to a government official. In fact, it made her feel more American than she ever had in her life.

And, at this wedding, Alice and Edna feel young and important, and look beautiful, and could not believe where they were sitting and, more importantly, which famous people they spotted as the room filled up. They kept quietly whispering to each other.

Edna: “Oh my god, is that Brad Pitt? He’s still hot as hell and he’s what? Sixty-five?”

Alice: “Yeah, but damn. Tarantino just looks… old.”

Edna: “I didn’t even know that Angelyne was still alive.” Of course, she was seated way in the back.

Alice: “Please tell me that Justin Bieber is crashing this and they’re going to kick him… Oh. Great. No.”

Edna: “All right, that’s it. Betty White is a vampire or something. How old is she now?”

Alice: “She looks amazing. I think she’s like… 107 or something?”

Edna: “Wow. I should only look so good in 25 years.”

Alice: “That’d be 2054. Wow. And I’d only be 98.”

Edna: “You know, with science nowadays — ”

Alice: “Yeah, but only if I get to look like I’m thirty.”

Edna turns to her and they fist bump.

At that same moment, James was quietly trying to figure out whether he could casually finger-bang Finley behind Tycho’s back without anyone noticing it, but Tycho noticed, grabbed James’ arm, and moved it back to his right side.

“We are at work, dude. We do not fuck at work. Got it?”

“Not even a little?” James pleaded, giving his best puppy-dog eyes.

“Not even at all, you horny whore-bag. But if you manage to keep it in your pants until we get home, I promise that Fin and I are going to DP you until your face explodes. And if you’re really well behaved, we might even invite Adam and Tony along to see how many dicks we can get up your ass at once.”

“Behaving!” James replied, and then he shut up and kept his hands to himself.

The whole complicated sex thing between Tycho, Finley, James, Adam, and Tony had finally settled into a pattern once Tycho actually moved into his government condo, but that had taken a bit longer than until the middle of May, mainly because there were two groups that hadn’t gotten moved into new permanent headquarters, and it was all due to a single city council member who Tycho had taken to referring to (privately to Finley and James) as “that Goddamn Shit-cunt Wendy.”

She was trying to take over their properties when both orgs had sufficient endowments to rebuild. He had had to work through the County Board of Supervisors to get the Mayor of L.A. to basically tell Wendy to fuck off, which she immediately did as soon as she got the scoop — it did help that one group was a Catholic org, and the RAI order was fired off so fast and hard that, Tycho hoped, it singed away half of Wendy’s Karen haircut.

He had managed to fast-track it, so that by June 1st the properties were secured, plans were being submitted for approval and permitting, and temporary quarters were placed on the sites, ending his need to stay down there. Although he’d found it laughable that this was even a requirement at all, because of how it worked out.

In theory, everyone should have been lodged as close to their area as could be, in this case Koreatown. In practice, that wasn’t possible. But the great irony was that Tycho’s condo downtown was actually closer, and on the same B Line that brought him down from the Valley in the opposite direction.

The only upside was that hotel sex was totally awesome, and their whirlpool tubs and showerheads could do amazing things in the right hand and aimed at or up the right parts. Otherwise, though, it was absolutely stupid, but he wasn’t going to waste his breath complaining about that to any of his superiors, because it would never change.

He guessed that at least a couple of the members of the Board of Supervisors owned stock in the various hotels people were being lodged at, so had a vested interest in keeping business booming at taxpayer expense. Yeah, one thing he’d really learned on the job was that the Supervisors’ level of corruption made the shit that had finally destroyed and rebuilt the City Council look as trivial as a fourth-grader charging other kids a dollar to copy from their homework.

It had been going on for a lot longer, and nobody ever did anything about it. It almost made him angry enough to want to run for the Board and change things from inside, but he knew that this wasn’t possible and feared that he’d become just as corrupt.

The City Council has fifteen members and the County Board of Supervisors has five. At the wedding, as Tycho scans the crowd, he spots all five of the Supes, but only fourteen of the Council, and secretly does a little internal dance of joy when it’s still only fourteen right before show time.

He leans over to Finley and whispers, “Shit-Cunt’s not here.”

“You think she was invited?” he asks.

“Inevitably,” Tycho explains. “The invitations went out months ago, and all the council and department managers and other top levels would have gotten one. It’s protocol.”

“So she decided not to show up?” Finley wonders.

“Most likely,” Tycho replies. “She’s known for being petty and vindictive.”

Adam leans over to whisper to the two of them. “Cindy told me that she’s trying to take over her old landlady’s property and turn it into more luxury condos for rich people.”

“What does the landlady think of that?” Finley asks.

“Of course she hates the idea, but Rue’s been going around doing eminent domain.”

“What a bitch,” Tony adds.

“I am definitely going to chat up the Supes today to see what they can do to cut that shit-cunt off at the knees,” Tycho tells them all as the lights change and a sudden plaintive flute starts up at the back of the nave. It’s followed by drums and then, to their total shock, a bunch of accordions playing a polka kick in from the other side of the house.

The rest of it is the most awesome thing any of them have even seen in a church.

Image: US Bank Tower, Downtown Los Angeles, © 2018 Jon Bastian. All rights reserved.