"Did you know Ava Braun had two failed suicide attempts before she and Hitler finally killed themselves at the close of the war?"
            "Is that a fact?" she asked.
            "Hitler’d had a run of suicidal girlfriends, I’d say his artistic side was attracted to them. He only became a dictator because he failed as a painter."
            "Well, every person has a calling, it just takes some longer to find it than others."
            "You’re being sarcastic now," I told her.
            "Well, seriously. I mean what if he had taken off as a painter, would he be heralded as the most influential painter of the twentieth century?"
            "My mother tells me that title belongs squarely in the hands of Thomas Kinkade."
            "Well, your mother does have a lot of things to say about Thomas Kinkade. How many Jews has he killed?"
            "Honestly, that’s distasteful."
            "I’m just trying to put things into perspective."
            "So, I was wondering if you wanted to stop by the Swank Hole tonight. Grab a couple drinks. El Sob's band is playing."
            "That guy creeps me out."
            "El Sob’s alright. You’ll like his new band, they only play David Bowie songs, and none of the crap. Strictly Ziggy Stardust through the first third of Let’s Dance. He doesn’t fuck around with the Nazi folk shit."
            "First off, Hunky Dory is a fine album. Secondly, he always stares at my breasts when we’re around him. I keep waiting for him to jump across the table and maul me."
            "He’s my best friend, you might be the only attractive woman in Los Angeles who’s safe from him. He’d never lay a hand on my girlfriend."
            "Right."
            "So, I’ll pick you up around seven. Put some thought into where you want to eat."
            Just after Seven-Thirty, we met El Sob at the Swank Hole, Los Angeles’ last refuge for punk rock.
            Taking a seat on a musty street couch, Stephanie casually announced "This place smells like urine."
            "It’s atmosphere, you’ll hardly notice it in a half hour", El Sob assured her.
            We ordered a round of Budweisers from a green haired cocktail waitress, one of three.
            "You remember Stephanie, right?" I asked El Sob.
            "Yeah,"he said. "From what’s her fuck’s party."
            "Darleen,"Stephanie said.[read on]