"With insomnia nothing's real. Everything's far away. Everything's a copy of a copy of a copy."
Tyler was a night person. While the rest of us were sleepin', he worked. He had one part-time
job as a projectionist, a shit job affording you interesting opportunities. Like splicing
single frames of pornography into family films. Even a humming bird couldn't catch Tyler
at work.
Tyler also works sometimes as a banquet waiter at the luxurious Pressman hotel. He was THE
guerrilla-terrorist of the food service industry. Apart from seasoning the lobster bisque,
he farted on meringues, sneezed on braised celery and as for the cream of mushroom soup...
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