My name is Budge. I Will Budge. I Tend to Budge. I’ll Budge an Inch.
I’m a big man — a street hawker today called me Big Guy on the Avenue of the Americas — but I’m a big man spread thin, like the sheen of marinara covering the doughy surface of an uncooked Chicken Roll.
Paperback books model-beautiful women appeared to be reading on the subway:
- something by Tom Wolfe
- Raise High the Roofbeam, Carpenters
(Paperback book I appeared to be reading on the Subway: How I Became a Famous Novelist by Steve Hely.)
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Two cigarettes. Ten thousand mL of bourbon. One hundred yards of ale. A dog-sized bolus of pizza. Comedy celebrities and their friends in dumb hats. Going home will be a relief. I’m soft.
