Taking the Boy Out of LA
It felt as though my city had betrayed me. In my early twenties, I’d been a star. I’d written for the Los Angeles Times, and had a record deal of my own. I’d driven a Porsche, and had as my life partner a universal object of desire. But by the time of my departure, I’d been reduced to taking demeaning word processing jobs to keep the lights on, and it s…
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