The Nights in Tunisia ring tone that Jay un-ironically purchased months ago sounds off.
Monty was the other end of the line- requesting Jay's presence at Shade tonight, at around 10:30.
Mont talks of a rendezvous to meet up with two Conde Nast ad execs, fresh in town who happen to be scouring the southern region of the west coast for new media leads and also for whatever nightlife/debauchery the city of Los Angeles happens to offer for the evening.
Mont also ads that these two publishing executives are about ten years younger, upwardly mobile and most notably, female.
Somewhere along Monty's darting spiel he explains the algebra of the situation- and how this equates to feed certain pangs inherent in females whilst traveling unaccompanied by male chaperons/suitors- a certain "what goes on in LA, stays in LA" ethos that exhumes a certain reckless attraction that Monty knows all too well Jay happens to be a major fan of.
"Sorry Not tonight Monty, I'm not winging it on another one of your set ups." Says Jay confidently and honestly.
Jay mentally patted yourself on the back. It's with this new kind of discretion that he is becoming slightly adroit to practicing as of lately, the discretion that just might save you him the elliptical orbit of disaster and failure his personal life has been skirting into for the last five years.
No more drinking. No drinking on weeknights. Only drinking on Saturdays. NO more cigarettes.One or two cigarettes only with a beer. No hard liquor. Only gin if hard liquor. NO Jagers. Only one Jager if it is free. NO whiskeys. A whiskey shot only if you're doing them with a female. And so on.
Now Jay's apartment seems like a refuge, a chamber of comfort and solice. A place that might be able to help help get his life back together. Jay was thinking of going back to his place, straightening up a bit- heat up some dinner, wash what little dishes he uses. Jay entertain thoughts of cranking on the AC and breathing in its comforting fumes, perhaps listening to some Brubeck on the record player,laying on his red velvety couch and making a small dent in the reading list. These are all very good ideas. These are the small things that will hypothetically help Jay master himself and in turn with such mastery he could be able to master his environment.
Mont continues: ".....and not to mention the fact that I casually mentioned my esteemed colleague Jason, who also happens to be a genius ex-pro skater who is currently in the midst of saving skateboarding from destroying its cultural cachet for a second time around- is writing a book."
"Not tonight Mont, It's been a hell of a day at work today- I'm tired." Says Jay defending his plans.
"Aw come on now,coach. They want to meet you, maybe talk about the book! You might even get lucky. God knows that you could get your mind off old whats her name."
That much is true. While at the begging seeing Monty's name on his cell seemed like a disturbance of what little constructive momentum he was building, now Mont takes on the demeanor of some kind of dysfunctional life coach.
Jay thought he could just Go have a couple of beers. Hell, maybe you'll even make some good contacts- get to talk about his novel with somebody. Jay even goes so far as to imagine thoughts of lust at first sight with said theoretical ad executive who would most undoubtedly have high cheek bones to die or at least temporarily suffer for. She would have a fine grasp on the nature of Jay's work- could maybe begin his plight and the whirlwind of events that bought him to such a tumultuous, albeit transatory state. With her fresh perspective she is able to point out and shed light about things Jay hadn't considered or even thought about. Ideas would resonate and be bought fourth which could help Jay transform his work, get you to that next level that he so desperately desires. With her charisma and contacts, she could become the woman on his side, could open doors that you didn't even know existed - like Catherine Kenner's character in "Being John Malkovich".