Random Scrap:
Pepsi was Barry's feature. Despite all the financial difficulties there was always money somewhere for a trip to seven eleven and a twelve pack of canned Pepsi. Cold. Sweet. Better than Coke. I enjoyed when he gave me ride back home at his Toyota's SUV. Stopping by gas station to get a few gallon of gas and a pack of American Spririts. We would be heading west into the night on the Freeway 10. Feeling free and somehow forgetful that all of that would need to pass at some point. There was no TV station, no accountants and no investors. But the mice were real and the cash somehow always showed up. So I just kept coming in and driving back enjoying the ride. Sometimes I would even ask for a raise. Maybe there was something I didn't know about. Maybe the eviction was just a phase. I didn't mind anyway coming to anywhere whether it was Robertson or Sawyer Street. It was just nice to be away somewhere where I felt I was needed and I could do whatever was fun. To smile sometimes. To be someone. Even if it was for a lost cause. Because maybe it wasn't?