The Lonely Hedonist by Mike Sager

Author:Mike Sager [Sager, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Sager Group
Published: 2017-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

The Most Interesting Man in the World, In Retirement

A cross between James Bond and Don Juan (with a dash of Don Quixote), he was internationally known and loved—until Dos Equis decided to send him to Mars.

In retirement, The Most Interesting Man in the World is still pretty interesting.

He is lounging on a stack of throw pillows, on a bench overlooking a hillside terraced with grapevines, set among the lush green hills of LA’s Topanga Canyon, smoking a fat Cuban cigar.

A pair of hawks circle overhead, riding the updrafts; in the distance, the blue sky meets the blue Pacific Ocean. The sun warms his face, deeply tanned with bronzer by a makeup artist, framed within the razor-sculpted lines of his familiar salt-and-pepper beard, which has been darkened here and there with a product called Liquid Hair. A small patch of lightly forested belly lies exposed by an errant flap of his untucked shirttail. The little hillock of pale skin rises and falls, rises and falls, measuring his even breaths.

The lookout spot is part of an estate that’s been rented by an ad agency for a series of commercials about Luma, a new kind of wireless router system that provides network security for the home. Goldsmith is here to play himself—wise and wisecracking, the ultimate help-desk authority. The web is a cesspool of digital sickness, and you’re swimming in nothing but goggles. A catered lunch for the fifty-person crew has just concluded. With another half hour to go before his next shot, Goldsmith has climbed the fifty or so steep stone steps that wind up the hill. Because he’s wearing a brand-new pair of blue suede shoes—an inside joke among the wardrobers?—the soles are unscuffed and slippery. Faltering a bit along the trail, he rested his hand upon his son’s forearm for balance.

His name is Jonathan Goldsmith. He is seventy-eight years old. Since 2006, when he first showed up in regional commercials as the brand spokesman for Dos Equis, a formerly obscure Mexican brewer owned by Heineken, Goldsmith has been known across the planet as the Most Interesting Man in the World. An ageless, debonair adventurer with a suave Latin delivery and big brass balls who has lived life to the fullest, his only regret was not knowing what regret feels like. A cross between James Bond and Don Juan (with a dash of Don Quixote), he became internationally known for his aristocratic bearing, his incredible feats of daring, his kindness to children, his addictive charm.

Over time, a series of clever ads painted a pointillist portrait: His shirts never wrinkled. He could parallel-park a train. His mother had a tattoo that says S-O-N. One time he went to a psychic—to warn her. Sharks had a week dedicated to him. His business card read, “I’ll Call You.” He was allowed to discuss Fight Club. His beard alone had experienced more than a lesser man’s entire body. He lived vicariously through himself.

He was . . . the Most Interesting Man in the World.

Until last year, anyway.

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