“Hey! How are you?”
“Good. Wow, I haven’t seen you in a couple of years.”
“Yeah, it’s been awhile. I heard you’re living at Ron’s house.”
“Heh. Yeah, I was there for a few months, . . . unfortunately.”
“You and Ron didn’t get along?”
“No, we didn’t. Ron’s a total prick.”
“Oh, sorry. So he’s having trouble with the house now?”
“Yeah. He’s losing a lot of money on it, so he’s really happy about that.”
“Uh, . . . I was going to ask you for his phone number, but . . .”
“I’d be happy to give it to you, but if you talk to him make sure you tell him that I called him a prick.”
“Uh, okay.”
Thumbing through a pocket-size address book: “The last number I have for him is 323 . . . ”
“That’s an L.A. number?”
“Yeah. 323-_____.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“He really is an asshole, just ask his brother. He’s never going to sell that place.”