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The
first
thing
the
hotel
manager
said
was
I
had
three
minutes
.
In
the
first
thirty
seconds
,
I
told
how
I
'd
been
peeing
into
soup
,
farting
on
creme
brulees
,
sneezing
on
braised
endive
,
and
now
I
wanted
the
hotel
to
send
me
a
check
every
week
equivalent
to
my
average
week
's
pay
plus
tips
.
In
return
,
I
would
n't
come
to
work
anymore
,
and
I
would
n't
go
to
the
newspapers
or
the
public
health
people
with
a
confused
,
tearful
confession
.
The
headlines
:
Troubled
Waiter
Admits
Tainting
Food
.
Sure
,
I
said
,
I
might
go
to
prison
.
They
could
hang
me
and
yank
my
nuts
off
and
drag
me
through
the
streets
and
flay
my
skin
and
burn
me
with
lye
,
but
the
Pressman
Hotel
would
always
be
known
as
the
hotel
where
the
richest
people
in
the
world
ate
pee
.
Tyler
's
words
coming
out
of
my
mouth
.
And
I
used
to
be
such
a
nice
person
.
At
the
projectionist
union
office
,
Tyler
had
laughed
after
the
union
president
punched
him
.
The
one
punch
knocked
Tyler
out
of
his
chair
,
and
Tyler
sat
against
the
wall
,
laughing
.
"
Go
ahead
,
you
ca
n't
kill
me
,
"
Tyler
was
laughing
.
"
You
stupid
fuck
.
Beat
the
crap
out
of
me
,
but
you
ca
n't
kill
me
.
"
You
have
too
much
to
lose
.
I
have
nothing
.
