Free L.A. Success by Hans C. Freelac Page B

problem was going to be trying to find somewhere to park. All the streets in that area were permit only, and if I parked somewhere else and walked around, that'd only fly for a while. I could take pictures and pull out the binoculars—everybody does. But after a while people would start to get suspicious. I drove north up Dell Avenue and then turned around and drove slowly over the canal bridge, looking right into Gertie's windows. Then I turned around and did it again, but she had already pulled the curtains closed.
    I tried to make another pass, but there were so many cars that it was taking forever and turning around was getting difficult. I decided to park a little to the west on Pacific Avenue and then walk back on foot. I'd pretend to be a creepy tourist until it got weird. By the time I got back to her place, the lights were out. I couldn't tell if she was still there. I did a tour of the entire canal system waiting for any changes, but nothing doing. I either hadn't seen her leave, or she was in a room I couldn't see very well.
     
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    I walked back to the Charger and got in. The radio said it was almost seven in the evening. I hadn't eaten anything in forever, and since I had just done some serious walking, I was feeling light headed. Then I realized I hadn't ordered anything for my dad either, so he must have been hungry, too. I drove back to Santa Monica, picked up some sub sandwiches, and then went over to Dennis'.
    When I walked in, I smelled something funky. Ballsack had left a little package for me on the tiles in front of the door. I guessed that it was his way of telling me he was pissed off at me for staying out all day without him. I also noticed that my dad wasn't playing chess. He was just sitting on the couch doing nothing.
    “Dad, I'm sorry about this. I got caught up in a bunch of stuff and just forgot.” He didn't look over.
    I took out the sandwiches and set everything in front of him. He waited a minute or two and then tore into his. When I went to feed the big poodle, his bowl was already full. My dad must have given him something to eat. That made me feel even worse. My dad was becoming more responsible than I was. I downed my food, cleaned up the poodle poo, and straightened up the place a little. Then Ballsack came strolling sheepishly into the room. He must have thought he was going to be in trouble, so I stroked his afro a little to make him feel better.
    The dog and I went home to sleep after I saw that my dad was back to normal. When I lay down, I could really feel my body aching from all the walking I had done, but my brain was going crazy thinking about everything I had done that day. The caffeine must have had something to do with that. Even when I didn't want to think, everything was turning round and round. I had to listen to more frog barking than usual before I flushed that day out of my head.
     
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    I spent longer than usual in the shower the next morning. I let the hot water massage all the soreness out of my muscles. I hadn't been so active in a long time, and I certainly hadn't laid off the booze like that in a while. If I kept this pace up, I wasn't going to have time to be so fat anymore.
    I got dressed and left Dennis' cool clothes in the hamper for Tommy to wash. I was thinking about bringing a week's worth of Dennis' clothes over to my place because going over to his house and changing again every morning was starting to be a pain in the ass.
    I grabbed a bunch of delivery menus from the kitchen before I headed over to Dennis' house. I decided I was going to leave them with my dad so that he could start ordering food whenever he wanted. I had thought about picking up some groceries and stocking Dennis' fridge, but I didn't think my dad was going to be ready to cook things, or even to put sandwiches together. This delivery system would be easy for him. I'd just leave some more money in the chess-winnings bag, and he would think he was earning his own food now.
    I