ERSATZ obsequies

The next evening, Rob, after leaving Hoffman & Flynn, Architects, meets Tim Valentino, vice principal and baseball coach for Liberty High, at the Penalty Box, a South-Bethel sports bar. Rob no sooner gets a drink in front of him than Tim starts yammering about some weekly high-school sports review he’ll be hosting on the local cable channel every Saturday from –

Hang on, dude, Rob says, holding up a palm, taking a gulp of watery 7 & 7. He hates this sports-bar shit. You remember the New York indiscretion? Of last fall?

Oh yeah. Tim sips his Heineken. The one indiscretion every man must, in a just and decent society, be permitted.

Annually. That’s right. So listen to this. Angela and I are at the movies last night – that Beaches Near and Far flick?

That unrated thing? You got Angela to go see that?

Yeah. And ten minutes into it –

He breaks off, laughing riotously, slapping his own thigh. Oh, Jesus, dude. Ten minutes into it, guess who suddenly walks on screen?

Tim’s face slackens. You’re joking.

No, man, Rob laughs, passing a knuckle under his eye. I swear to God. I almost had to go jerk off in the men’s room.

No effing way. Tim stares at Rob. Not Kelly Merchant. She is not the chick you – who you met in that martini bar by Cooper Union. Who got loaded on cosmos. Who asked you to walk her back to the Hilton.

Rob gulps at his drink, whimpering, Hey, man, all I ever got was her first name.

Who spent half the night sitting on your face? Dude, do you never turn on the fucking television?

Rob reaches for the peanuts, tosses one into his mouth. I’m a movie man.

Tim shakes his head, looks around to make sure none of his colleagues are present, plucks a cigarette from inside his sports coat. Lights up.

I tell you, Rob says, it’s really something. He grins thoughtfully now, staring at college-football highlights on the TV over the bar. It makes you realize how pretty much any of us could’ve wound up famous. You know? I mean what’s the difference between them and us?

Dude, we are famous. Tim exhales grey lung smoke. We’re Bethel famous.

Rob snorts.

We’re famous in miniature.

Yeah, Rob says.

Tim has another nervous look around. Then, in a lowered voice: Hey, man. Remember that senior cheerleader I told you about? Jackie? The one I’ve been having the whole crazy-ass flirtation with?

Uh-huh.

Well, I think it’s finally gonna happen. Later tonight I’m supposed to –

Dude, Rob says, grinning, holding up a hand. Do I legally want to hear this?