Me, Salvatore Pane, and some other guy lived in the same apartment between 2010 and 2012. One day, Sal walked in our front door. Drunk, as usual. As he stumbled down the hallway towards his bedroom, he started yelling, “If looks could kill, I would be an uzi.” It was around 10 AM, and the baby that lived upstairs started screaming. Sal started screaming, too. He sounded eerily like the baby. Maybe he was mocking it. After a few minutes, he passed out in the hallway. I thought about rolling him over so he didn’t choke on the inevitable vomit, but he was really overweight at the time. Just lifting one of his arms was exhausting.
Apparently, Sal wrote a book about how great it was to live with me. It’s called Last Call in the City of Bridges. You can preorder it here.