Aug 30
My shipment of books isn’t due to arrive until tomorrow – with weight limits on plane cargo being strictly enforced I do believe Barnes & Noble has hired a fleet of earth movers and forklifts specifically to handle my order. Last night, with nothing much else to read, I picked up The Perks of Being A Wallflower again and started to read it for a second time. Three hours later I turned the last page and then turned off my bedroom light. I know I must have blinked somewhere between the book’s beginning and end, though only because reason tells me it must be so; I don’t think I actually perceived the passage of time beyond the simple act of turning a page. I have talked about this book several, several times, and odds are pretty good that by now you have read it too. That said, I recommend you read it again. I admit that I take a great deal more pleasure in reading a great sentence than the next guy, but how can you read a paragraph like this and not smile at its simple perfection?
It’s like he would take a photograph of Sam, and the photograph would be beautiful. And he would think that the reason the photograph was beautiful was because of how he took it. If I took it, I would know that the only reason it’s beautiful is because of Sam.
Anyway, that’s enough about the book.
Things have been turning around for me lately. I’ve said it before and I stand by it still: It’s amazing what a good haircut can do.
Matt is back in Las Vegas and this past weekend we went down to The Comedy Stop at The Tropicana. My boy Daniel Negreanu goes there a lot and frequently writes about how great it is. Frustratingly, though we went to the show on Saturday night, the following morning I found out that Daniel had randomly gone on Friday, the very night before! Anyway, the comedians were all really funny and the tickets were pretty cheap ($20 for a 3-comic 90-minute show with one drink included! – and a bag of popcorn for an additional $2). The best part of the show, though, took place as we entered the theater. There were no assigned seats on the tickets, but upon presenting your ticket at the entrance an usher would escort you to a table. Waiting to be seated I was less than thrilled to notice that the groups of people in front of us were being ushered to the back rows off to one side of the stage. However, when it was our turn to be seated the usher took a quick look at us and then smiled, “Right this way gentlemen. I’m going to give you some really great seats.” And he did. The man led us up past rows upon rows of filled seats until we were standing almost directly in front of the stage. “Here you go. These are some really great seats. Thanks for waiting so patiently.” The usher then spun on his back heel and winked at me before returning to the line of waiting ticket holders. Matt didn’t really know what had happened, but I guessed at the situation. Ushers in Las Vegas always leave the best seats open so that they can then later give them to customers willing to buy them from the usher in the form of a tip (money controls everything in Vegas, second place is being a really hot girl). My suspicion was confirmed a few minutes later when the same usher brought up a couple wearing a lot of jewelry and seated them next to us. Before taking his seat the gentleman slipped a small wad of cash into the usher’s hand while muttering a casual, “Thank you.” Matt and I understood why the usher would give good seats to the high rollers, but why had he given some to us? Matt was quick to offer a theory. “Look, it’s pretty obvious that we’re sweet dudes.” Well said.
So yeah, my good luck continues. And so does my inexplicable ability to get free stuff from guys.