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Willy Vlautin is also a great novel writer. The Motel Life his debut is a wonderfully understated tome to bad-luck down-at-heel Americana. Tonally it’s Bukowski, Tom Waits, and Bobson Dugnutt in a bar all rueing the fact they’ve missed out on the ten cent beer night.
Virginia Belmont. I’m not sure who she is but I imagine like Norma Desmond in Sunset Boulevard she lives (lived?) in an old dilapidated mansion on the outskirts of Los Angeles. Her only companions, birds of every colour and description. Her mission in life to bring about world peace via the recordings of her loyal feathered friends.
I walked into the Spoons near Tower Bridge a year or so ago (a Scheißloch but I was thirsty) and headed straight to (what I thought was) an empty bar. A righteous voice from another part of the room indignantly informed me “excuse me there’s a queue here sir” He looked like a man who could earn money modelling for Toby jugs ie: old enough to know better and he was at the back of a long queue. Half the people in the queue were holding menus. I came back with, “This is a pub not a post office” More importantly I got served.
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