On the relationship front, sadness and desolation. M. refused to bring me coffee in bed and instead made me get up and go to the kitchen.

Nice day with him and some of his old friends in Berkeley, though. And, I got some good cautionary advice from a woman who moved here from the Netherlands. She’s noticed a little resistance in the Californian, politically correct workplace to her accustomed direct style. So, I’ll be practicing saying shit like, “How do you feel about that?”

On the Nick front, I haven’t yet mentioned the best interaction yet, which happened Friday afternoon. A general ruckus outside is punctuated with “Denise, help, call the police.”

Turns out a disgruntled, young man wasn’t interested in giving Nick any promised money (sounded like a whopping $100) for the month of March, since he wasn’t able to move in just yet. For once in my life, I have to say it sounded like the landlord was actually the one in the right. Not sure what planet the young guy lives on where you don’t end up paying the man who owns the place whatever you agreed to in writing.

There is something a tad sad and dicey and uncomfortable about watching an angry, shouting guy in his 20s getting right into the face of an old Greek, such as Nick is, and looking like the punching might commence.

I felt sorry for Nick. I felt sorrier still when he came by our place a little while later feeling he needed to explain himself after the shouted allegations. (At one point the kid was screaming to everyone in the complex that Nick was a thief and we should all know it.) Nick’s hand was shaking as he showed me the paper the kid had signed.

Meanwhile, I’m still getting settled and feel almost there. One last milestone was being told about this website, which has info on where to perform. It’s about on par with stupid at this site. Pretty much proving that among comics there will always be a subsection of retards.