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    Broken Girls with Strange Frames (Ch. 2)

    Chapter 2: Smothered Recollection

    It was a year ago. So, whatever, I was freelancing it for LA Magazine and the word was that Kit Porter was making a quiet, inconspicuous “comeback” of sorts at this small little club somewhere on San Vicente, and the whole deal was that it was supposed to be very exclusive. I don’t know, maybe you had to be a real obsessive Kit Porterholic to get invited and the rest of us regular folk who maybe just owned an album just didn’t cut it.

     

    Anyway, I had no idea where on San Vicente the club was or what the name really was; it was just a lead, and if it panned out and I was able to accost Kit Porter after the show and snag an interview, then I had the job and I got paid. If I couldn’t, I got nothing. The guy in the office had said they would pay a lot for an article like that, and since I seemed to be the only person with a tip on it, I was going to have to go for it. I’ll say one thing, which is that LA Magazine does take care of its own and if you’re on staff, you’re pretty golden. But if you’re not, you’re pretty… nothing.

     

    And it wouldn’t have been so bad except that, in these days, I was a pretty poor *****. I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to make a career out of freelance journalism, but I’m telling you that it is so the farthest thing from “fun” and “easy” and “lucrative”. Most times it’s just a ***** headache. Like, for example, the headache at this time was the fact that I had rent that was due and next to no money in my bank account. I was waiting for a letter from this new magazine, Brentwood, which I was expecting to pay me $375 for the article I wrote them awhile back. The money would do wonders for paying rent at my ***** apartment (which I shared with two boys, both with entirely ***** jobs, as well), but the magazine paid on publication, and I didn’t even know if it was going to be published yet.

     

    This was why I was in dire need of a job and the LA Magazine one seemed pretty sweet. But like I told you, a ***** headache. I mean-whatever. I digress.

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    Comments

    1. love this POV from Alice. This must be when Kit was doing her bad drinking. Bettes beautiful smile. Waking up to that each morning .what a way to start the day.

    2. Younger Alice is so much fun. Still a little wet behind the ears, full of energy and no filter from her brain to her mouth. Interesting to see Bette single and mingling, if only to see her sister. Can’t wait for more.

    3. I don’t usually read stories when it’s just about plain love or attraction, but this one really has something to it.
      The way you write Alice and picture younger Bette is very cool and realistic and since I’ve always wondered what had happened between the two of them, I think I’m along for the ride too :)
      Thanks for this cool story.
      xxx

    4. I just started this wonderful chapter in which Alice makes this pithy statement,”And it wouldn’t have been so bad except that, in these days, I was a pretty poor motherfucker.”

      I had to pause for this comment:

      Take me with you! I am your slave!

      Ahem…

      Now, back to the story…

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