Resting Bobby Face

by thoughtsonthedead

bobby dangelico“Bobby, you don’t have to point at the name of the guitar.”

“People hire Bob Weir to sell a guitar, Bob Weir sells that guitar.”

“Okay. Bob?”


“You gonna keep glaring at me?”

“That’s my endorsement face. They didn’t pony up for the smile.”

“It also feels like I’m getting a lot of your watch in this shot.”

“Gotta lead with the watch. Josh Meyers taught me that.”


“A lot of people say that when I bring him up.”

“Wait: ‘Jay Blakesberg?’ That’s your name? What have I been calling you?”

“You called me ‘Jibble Bibble’ for like five or six years, then you switched to ‘dude’ or ‘man’ for a while, and lately it’s been ‘Jeff,’ which I figured was close enough.”

“Sounds right.”

“Billy calls me ‘Bar Mitzvah Face.'”

“That also sounds right.”

“Why did my actual name just come to you all of a sudden?”

“It’s, um, written right there.”

“What? Where? What’s written?

“In the bottom corner. Can you not see that?”

“I cannot, Bob.”

“Oh, wait: how many realities you occupying currently?”

“Just the one?”

“There’s the problem. You familiar with the concept of a semi-fictional universe?”

“Can we just take pictures, please?”

“Sure, sure. Maybe I should point at the name with both hands.”

“Maybe. Definitely maybe.