Cash & Credit
Featuring stories by writers J. T. Townley, R. Dean Johnson, Cheryl J. Fish, Rachel Mann, and Deborah Johnstone; performed by actors Samantha Jane Gurewitz, Ryan Ervin, Mark Woollett, and Michaela Morton. Hosted by Andrew Lloyd-Jones at KGB Bar on 6th November 2013.
I don’t need expensive things – which makes them all the more desirable. Desire is not the only motivating factor, however. A lack of income causes me to lust after things that normally would not enter my consciousness. This cognition brings mental confusion; I can clearly see that nearly everyone else has more money than I do. That’s confusing.
When I step through the door, all the croupiers sing: Casino Joe from New Mexico, we want you on our side! They can be mid-shuffle, doesn’t matter. That’s the kind of welcome they give me. Been doing it long as I can remember. Even have choreography, a couple steps and some hand motions. I’m not just talking one casino; it’s the same thing at all of them, Albuquerque to Taos. Where the bosses find that kind of talent, I know not.
We were leaving Canter’s Deli, each of us with a girl, when Liam taught me the trick. I don’t really remember the girls now, but the bums, they were everywhere outside. Three in the morning, bums four deep on the sidewalk. It made sense, I guess. Where else would they be on a Friday night but outside a 24-hour place?
Hannah Kleinvelter enchanted me with her paintings. She made them in a room next to an elevator shaft in NOLITA when it was a dilapidated, acronym-free neighborhood. Pasta boiled on a hotplate; we drank endless pots of tea. I picked up a few items at the corner bodega, some wine for the evening, and lit the candle in the center of the altar. Hannah primed her wooden boards.
The damp winter chill slaps Jennifer’s cheeks as she comes through the revolving door, leaving the overheated, recirculated office building air behind. How easy it was to invent a dentist appointment! How necessary to escape a few hours early from her blindingly boring job as an editorial assistant at a textbook publisher. No one would think well of her, if they knew: not her husband, not her in-laws, not her parents, and not her boss.