Leonard Says Buy My Book


“Hey, you, what you writing?” The man is Wall-eyed, so though he is facing me it appears that he is staring at my right ear and the bartender.

“Just some notes,” I say. I have found that by sitting at the bar at The Horne and writing in a notebook, I become irresistible to the other patrons. They must talk to me.

“Yeah.” When he drinks at his drink – a double Canadian Club whiskey and Coke – I notice that the ring finger on his left hand is missing from the second knuckle. “You write books or something?”

“Yeah, I got one coming out next week.” I drop this in with casual coolness. I have been test driving statements such as these recently, just to see how they feel.

“It any good?” Obviously I have failed to impress Leonard, my new comrade. He’s wearing a T-shirt that reads Piggly Wiggly Giggly and features an ecstatic cartoon pig doing a jitterbug.

“I hope so.”

“What’s it called?”

“Senseless.”

“What’s it about?”

“A guy loses all his senses.”

“Pbbbt,” he flaps his lips. “What do I get if I buy it?”

This question throws me off a bit. “Um, a book about a guy who loses all his senses.”

“Ain’t enough.”

We’re quiet for a while and Leonard buys me a shot, a gesture I am unable to interpret. I open my Moleskine and go back to jotting notes. Leonard gets on his phone and has a colorful conversation with a gentleman named Fuck-for-Brains.

I have been spending a great deal of time at The Horne, watching baseball and slipping into a state of content that is usually post-carnal or pre-Oreo cookie. I am a good regular, I write, read and keep to myself. I engage the others in discussions about the baseball game when necessary, and I always say please and thank you. The other regulars are colorful. They discuss politics as if the American government is insane for having not asked them for their opinions on how to fix everything. A mouth full of teeth precludes me from membership in the regulars’ club. As does the fact that I can often make it to the bathroom before exploding into a frenzy of urine and tears.

Leonard fits right in with this group. He speaks in a slow drawl that does not allow for the possibility of interruption. He is a big man, gray and thick and obviously missing an important chromosome that makes one a full Homo sapien. He wears a dog tag and he is a mouth breather.

Despite this, Leonard has tapped into some level of anxiety that tells me to give away knick knacks with my book to improve sales. I envision people ripping open my book like a box of Fruit Loops cereal and looking around for the decoder ring, only to be disappointed by finding a signed picture of my grandmom. These thoughts stew.

After a while, I speak again without turning to Leonard. “Why isn’t it enough?”

He responds within seconds, having been stewing on it himself, or at least knowing that I have been stewing on it myself. “People don’t read no more.” He doesn’t turn to me either. We are regarding each other in the mirror behind the bar. “You gotta give them something extra.”

“Do you read?”

“Fuck no.” Mirror Leonard looks angry for a moment, then softens. “But I’ll help you out.”

I buy him a double Canadian Club whiskey and Coke and we get to work.

We decide to offer buying incentive based on geographical area. And since Leonard and I have major differences in our idea of a reward for buying my book, I have listed both of our suggestions under each area.

Langhorne/Philadelphia area

My suggestion: If you meet me at The Horne I will sign your book using three or more expletives and we’ll make the guy with the voice box pretend he’s Robocop.

Leonard’s suggestion: If you meet us at The Horne I will sign your book and you can buy him a Canadian Club whiskey and he won’t “hand you your own ass.”

Prague

My suggestion: I’ll allow you to buy me one beer while I sign your book and flirt with your female companion in bad, idiomatic Czech. For a limited time, you can buy me two beers and I’ll flirt with any companion you have while sitting on your lap.

Leonard’s suggestion: I’ll sign your book and you can send him a bottle of “something from Czechoslovakia that tastes like Canadian Club whiskey and not some Commie shit.” Also, if he likes it, he won’t “kick your fucking teeth in.”

Anywhere else

My suggestion: You get a naked picture of my cat.

Leonard’s suggestion: You get a naked picture of my cat. (Leonard has stopped making sense at this point in our meeting, and I think it best to ignore what’s coming out of his mouth at this point).

You might get me to do some of these things for you, if you live in Prague or Philly and you catch me at the right moment. But really, what you get is a good book and a great deal of appreciation for your support.

I think Leonard agrees. Mr. for-Brains definitely does.

My book, Senseless, will be for sale within the next couple days, in both hard copy and Kindle forms. I’ll post again tomorrow with details and such. But in the meantime, what would be a great knick knack to get with a book?

  1. #1 by Ed Schorpp on August 8, 2011 - 5:46 pm

    Re: the knick-knack to go with the book, how about a bobble-head statue of Ron Rivera?a

  2. #2 by Damien Galeone on August 8, 2011 - 6:52 pm

    Yes! Great idea!

  3. #3 by Andrew on August 8, 2011 - 9:49 pm

    Slow head and a belly rub are always deal-clinchers…

  4. #4 by Lonnie P on August 8, 2011 - 11:00 pm

    A great knick knack to get with your book? I’d say a moist towelette (preferably “Wet Ones”) and a morning-after pill. Or maybe Fun Dip. Or any combination of the three.

  5. #5 by Lee Adams on August 9, 2011 - 8:23 am

    A scratch and sniff card linked to various smells in the book.

  6. #6 by Emma on August 9, 2011 - 2:57 pm

    i strongly suggest that my copy comes with a large bottle of Jack, but what do i know? (by the way the captcha code for this message is ialiescu allocapr, who i believe was a well-known romanian wizard…. i need to sleep more….)

  7. #7 by Damien Galeone on August 9, 2011 - 4:28 pm

    Em, you need to drink more.

    • #8 by Emma on August 9, 2011 - 4:57 pm

      and drink i shall. if you’re ever coming back here, that is…

  8. #9 by Lee Adams on August 9, 2011 - 9:15 pm

    Actually, I would settle for a hip flask of Jack. That would rock. You know what, a hip flask with any kind kind of whiskey would be cool. Come to think of it, a hip flask itself would be great. Or whiskey. Or Canadian Club (though I don’t consider it whiskey). Or Emma, ‘coz she comes with whiskey 😀

    P.S. I still want a hip flask though… Even with Emma

    • #10 by Emma on August 10, 2011 - 3:11 pm

      you know, you could just buy a hip flask? you seem to really want one. also, this captcha is just f***ing around now, it’s all numbers and asian symbols. what’s up with that?

  9. #11 by Tara Ceranic on August 11, 2011 - 3:57 am

    I would like a picture of your cat in pants and a monocle in retun for my purchase.

  10. #12 by Damien Galeone on August 11, 2011 - 9:05 pm

    T -done and done.

Comments are closed.