He'd heard of a study recently saying that nicotine actually improved a person's memory. He scratched his head and shrugged. He scratched his balls too, and picked a little at his nose. It helped him to think even better yet.

His fingers found no cigarettes though.

He checked again, trying to remain calm.

He was out all right...

Experimentally, he licked the tip of a finger and dug at the little shakes of stray tobacco debris at the bottom of the Lucky Strike box, like a sort of side of the road... DUI working off... orange vested chain-gang... litter collector.

He figured he could maybe chaw them... maybe that would be disgusting enough to wake him up... maybe it was just a bad dream. He'd had a good night. His day couldn't start out this bad.

He still didn't see his car anywhere.

"Ahh fuck... Don't even tell me it's been stolen..."

He looked around again. Just to be sure. How could a '65 Coupe de Ville hide like this?... Sure, the thing was grey, and it was bright out, and Robert was pretty good and hungover... but, the thing was bigger than your average Navy vessel these days... and with custom red velvet paisley pattern upholstery... "It's a fucking one of a kind- who fucking dares steal the king-maker!??" he nearly cried.

There wasn't any echo. It was just a medium big, not-so-very-wide Berkeley street.

"Liberal wingnut anti-automobile enviro-crats!!, who do you think you are?? I'll take this to the Supreme Court!! he cried now, suddenly suspecting a Berkeley tow-job.

It suddenly dawned on Robert that Luci would be leaving for work soon too. He didn't have much time.

"Fuck!" he muttered one more time, just to be sure the universe understood his position. Then he went back up to the door and knocked as politely as he could manage. He knew she was there. She'd let him use her phone... he hoped. HIs car and his troubles, they had to be more important to her than getting to work two minutes early...

"who is it?" came her voice.

"Uhh, it's me."

"Berto?", she asked, over the sounds of working the deadbolt, and the chain, and the knob lock, "What are you doing still here?"

She liked to call him Berto...

"Uhh," he stammered, limping around in place there on the antique panoramic white front porch space that still hinted of the scent of vomit from that party -what had it been?, two weeks ago?... "Uhh, my car seems to be gone."

"What?" she asked, her Italian accent drawl subtle with that particular word, but hinted at, hinting at something subliminal in Robert's mind's corners. He put all that out of his mind though.

"The Destroyer, it's gone."

She stared at him a moment, propped there between the door and the sill, like she was waiting for a punchline. She wouldn't've gotten it... She always took shit like this a little too seriously. She liked to call him Berto...

"My car, it's gone." he said, flatly, hoping it would clarify matters and maybe help.

She just looked at him for a moment. "Gone?" she asked finally.

"Gone." he answered. He wasn't feeling particularly chipper or amused by it either...

"Well, I have to get to work soon..." she muttered.

He knew.

"I know..." he answered, "But will your house friends mind if I use the phone for a few minutes? Do you mind?" he asked, figuring that if nothing else he should probably call in stranded to work.

He knew she shared the house with other people. He wasn't exactly sure how many though. He'd never seen them all collected in any one room at any one time, so he'd never gotten a sure count... but he knew there was more than one of them. Still, there was no reason they should mind. It wasn't a long distance call. It was the responsible thing to do. How could anyone ever fault another person for doing something responsible, after all?... And, well hell, if he wound up finding his car parked just an extra block or two further away than he remembered parking it... then he'd at least have a good excuse to get out of work for a day...

Hell, that wouldn't be so bad...

And if the car was stolen?... Well, he'd still get the day off work.

"Uhh, yeah, alrigh'..." she answered after half a moment of nostril flaring consideration.

She really had a lovely nose, a lovely set of nostrils... but he just didn't have time for that now.

"Thanks babe..." he said, reaching out despite himself to nibble at her nose.

"Damn it... I jus' powder' my nose..." she muttered, as she grabbed his medium length hair by the back and dragged him off her.

"Ohh, yeah..." he remembered, and he staggered on through the door to take care of the business at hand.

"I won't be a minute... or at least not much more than a minute..." he assured her.

She sort of smiled at him, like he'd just done something cute or something. He made his way to the phone, but found his eyes locked on her. He bumped up against the big dining room table that one of her house associates had provided. It was just a small thud, but it had been enough to free his eyes from Luci's nostrils.

It was kind of a pity.

"Uhh, whoops..." he muttered, as he looked where he was going for the remaining 12 steps it took to reach the phone.

Images of her nostrils haunted him as he tried to decide who to call first. He almost wondered what they smelled... he hoped they smelled him, lingering odors from the night before. He'd probably be better off if they smelled something else, sure. Maybe the garlic on the bread this morning... maybe her own deodorant... he hadn't even had a chance to put on a new layer of deodorant. He suddenly felt French.

"Do you happen to have the number of the police, or maybe a white pages, handy?" he asked, turning to face her now.

He'd found that she understood his quickly rambling English a little bit better when he faced her. She didn't have time to be cutely asking him what the hell he was talking about just now... the Man wanted her in attendance, and Robert knew how it went. He was really a very sensitive guy at heart.

She just pointed at something near the phone... and smiled a bit.

At least she was enjoying his misfortune. Actually, much as he hated to admit it to himself, he was kind of enjoying watching her enjoyment of his misfortune too.

"Goddamn it... stop smiling about this, you're gonna put me back into a good mood- and then how will I get the police to do anything useful?"

She just smiled some more at that... "Hurry up, I hafta go!..."

They were so cute, like newlyweds or something... It's always that way when a woman picks up on the rebound so easily. Her boyfriend had just picked up and moved to Ohio or something, feeling like he needed his space... threatened by impending doom of marriage... inevitable pressure for institutionalization of love- the usual story.

He'd probably be back.

Robert found the number, dialed. "Hold please."

The Lion King theme song played, encouraging Robert to give up on bothering the police with the disappearance of his car. They didn't want to be bothered. Maybe it was the Jungle Book theme song though..., somehow it didn't sound so bad once Robert thought about it that way... He just needed an angle so he could hold on at least long enough to find out if the fucking car had been towed, or just stolen.

Luci came back out of the kitchen, munching on a stick of celery.

She looked somehow like Bugs Bunny there, with a grey polyacetate jacket on. SOme sort of office drag/camouflage... very becoming, really.

"So, what's up doc?" asked Robert, to kill time.

"Wha'?" she asked, between crunchy bites on her celery. A little strand of it popping out between her teeth... like a snake with only one fork of tongue...

"What's up?" he repeated, not bothering to try to explain the joke right away...

"Wha's up?? I'm waiting for you... hurry up."

"Hurry up!" he yelled into the receiver.

Whitney Houston show tunes came on.

"Quiet... Tom's still sleeping..."

"Tell him to get a job..."

"Dammit you... shut up... you probably woke him up, an' he probly heard 'at. He's the one I ren' from."

Robert popped his eyes open innocently wide, "Whoops..."

"Dammit you..." she muttered at him, kicking slapstically at his leg, and again, and again, and again... "Hurry up hurry up hurry up..."

He started swatting at her leg with the phone receiver... She laughed for a moment and then suddenly grabbed the thing. Robert pulled it back, she pulled it forth... "Hey wait-" Robert suddenly whispered.

She stopped. "What?"

"I think they answered."

She released the receiver.

"Nope, Kenny G..." he admitted, and pulled the receiver back away from his ear again to a safe distance.

She reached over and hung up for him. "I've got to go."

"Ok, can I just call the office and tell them I've got problems?..."

"Hurry."

She was serious now.

He made the call. Doris, his supervisor at the airport, was alright enough with it. All the jet gas pumpers had been laying bets on how much longer Robert could go on drinking like he did before he called in sick... and now Doris had won.

"Sure, I understand... your car's been stolen. Do what you can... Talk to you later, sweetie."

"That's right... she's got a thing for me." mused Robert. "She's been kind of cold lately, but the old charm always does the trick in a pinch..." One problem down... and a union job is hard to come by... Now he just had to get hold of the police.

"Ok?... Now get out." growled Luci.

"Thanks a million babe..." answered Robert, giving her one of his "look"s...

She grabbed his arm and yanked him out of the chair by the third try and hustled him out the door.

"You know, if you could let me stay just long enough to make a couple of calls to the police I promise to lock up..."

"No. I told you, there's an alarm I have to re-activate... Now shut up, you're makin' me lose my concentrate!"

Robert shut up. SHe was too mad even to let him give her a kiss goodbye... she just shoved him off her.

"Have a good day at work honey... See ya tonight??"

She looked back at him, her eyes roared. He just didn't know when to stop...