Selling Nostalgia by Mathew Klickstein

Author:Mathew Klickstein
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: N/A
Publisher: Permuted
Published: 2019-06-04T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12

As more of Gabe’s friends piled into the scenester dive bar in Silver Lake that evening, the verdict became unanimous. The new Blade Runner movie boasted incredible cinematography and art direction, everyone really dug the music, but the script and storyline left far too much to be desired.

The Blade Runner sequel, they all agreed, was never going to hold a candle to the original.

“Well, sure,” Gabe’s scruffy, gray-bearded pal in a worn-out trucker’s hat that had a faded map of Tennessee on it for no good reason, black thick-rimmed glasses, and a striped vintage store track suit jacket with a 49ers logo on it agreed. “But it could have been way better. I was expecting a lot more, especially from the guy who did Arrival.”

“Now that was a fantastic flick,” said another one of Gabe’s buddies, who looked younger than the first, but not by much, and who Milt was pretty sure had at one time been on a series of commercials in the early 2000s that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Everyone could agree with that too, including the bartender, Meg, who was once probably very beautiful and still had a certain Hollywood (Blvd) mien to her. What with her long, silken onyx hair, slight Sunset (Blvd) goth-lite makeup, and a ratty Mötley Crüe shirt holding tight to her forty-plus years of zaftig pudge.

“I fucking loved Arrival,” Meg crowed, as she brought another pitcher of frothy amber ale to the boys’ side of the rather small, crowded bar blaring with some early Rolling Stones song Milt only partially remembered. There was an unhealthy number of TVs with three different basketball games on, surrounding the bar from every angle.

“What did you think about Arrival, Milt?” Gabe laughed, doing his best to draw everyone’s attention to his friend sitting on the stool next to him and drifting off into space.

“Uh, yeah,” Milt muttered. “Laney and I saw it before I came out here. We were pretty surprised by how good it was.”

“This dude fucking hates every movie that comes out!” Gabe gleefully barked even louder than before, and now it was extremely obvious that everyone was looking at Milt, who would have blushed if he were a cartoon.

“I don’t hate every movie. I just can’t stand most of the crap that comes out these days. What can I say? I also don’t like McDonald’s, comic book movies, and current television. I’m like Brian Wilson,” Milt smirked, being knowingly snide. “I just wasn’t made for these times!”

They all had a chuckle at that, two of the guys around the bar meaning it. Gabe’s friend in the trucker hat poured a beer for Milt, though he declined.

“What, you don’t drink beer?” the generous soul asked.

“I haven’t had beer in a few years,” Milt said. “I’m a whiskey man these days, and besides, I’m trying to lose some weight. Carbs, dude.”

“You’re always trying to lose some weight,” Frankly said to his right.

“We’re all trying to lose some weight now that we’re old and disgusting!” Gabe said, grabbing the beer that was originally being handed over to Milt.

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