On Life as a Sarcastic Fringehead

Visiting the rewrite process for a second. With the first drafts no longer taking place in my journal, I'll have no real record of changes. I recovered the first draft of this paragraph through the undo feature in Word.

In duress, my memory always bails and I have no idea if I have any money. I know I’ve been at Ellery’s for a decent time, but for all I knew, he could have been paying me in chicken feed. Since I know Ellery to be nothing but an honest man, I’m assuming in my pocket is enough money for drinks and dinner and I accept Parker’s invitation.

I played with the paragraph for about three hours, clearly demonstrating why it took me three years to get those opening five paragraphs of this story.

In duress, my memory always bails and, standing in front of this girl, I have no idea if I have any money. I know I’ve been at Ellery’s for almost a year, but my work could be a payoff for a bet between him and cool cat gramps or some shit like that. I'm an indentured slave, I'm suddenly convinced. But, then, since I know Ellery and cool cat gramps to be nothing but honest men, I quash the slave slavery scare. I’m assuming in my pocket is enough money for our drinks and dinner, and I accept Parker’s invitation.

I'm enjoying Stillwater's character and I like having a little fun with him. Besides being the original book's doppelganger, his personality is based on my cousin Tony who died about 4 1/2 years ago at the age of 29. Tony was always ultra cool and ultra-accepting of people exactly as they came to him. He never suffered from Stillwater's memory loss, but the magnanimous way he treated people showed that he was quick to forget all our fuck-ups.

But enough about that beautiful boy. I'm never meaning to be this sentimental. It's that kind of day, I guess.