O l i v e r B e n j a m i n
had been waiting underneath them with a large, round tarpaulin.
Ah, finally, somebody does something right
, thought
Muchoman, as they came to rest comfortably on the white canvas.
Well, besides me, that is.
•
One of the things Gareth hated was a parade. They oozed good
intentions and philistine aesthetics, and were the perfect metaphor
for the drollery of low-class human experience: a big, hollow, puffed-
up bore that stumbled along predictably, yet had no significant
purpose or actual destination. Still, he found himself in attendance at
this year’s New Year’s Day parade for two reasons:
a)
For research
purposes, it was necessary to periodically expose himself to the
common clod, and
b)
Cain was driving them home from an elite
party, and insisted they made a detour to watch the idiotic thing.
Cain had a soft spot for Florence Henderson. Gareth, on the other
hand, admitted to no soft spots. As far as he was concerned, his was
an obelisk that might as well have been made entirely of burnished
iron.
Since they were still early, and Ms. Henderson wasn’t scheduled
to appear for at least another hour (she wasn’t scheduled to appear at
all any more, but they didn’t know that), the two men decided to
purchase some fermented hangover relief. As Cain waited in line,
Gareth sat on a bench and enjoyed the warm California sunshine.
Someone tapped him from behind and he turned around.
“Hey, aren’t you that VTV guy?” said a stocky teenager with
mustard on his fledgling mustache, “The guy that Time Magazine
called ‘The Crown Prince of Violence?’”
“What’s it to you?” said Gareth gruffly.
“I need a job,” he said.
“Get in line.”
“But I’m really
excellent
at violence.”
“Really? Let’s see you beat yourself up.”
The kid reluctantly began hitting himself in the face. Gareth
scuttled over to Cain, wondering how he ever got talked into
appearing in public with only one bodyguard. When he reached him,
Cain was now at the front of the line, ordering beers.
“Get me two,” said Gareth. Then they walked a bit, looking at the
craft sellers and performers who desperately tried to eke out meager
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