Neurotica

Tonight David Sedaris is reading at Massey Hall. I got my BFF tickets for his birthday but it's one of those under-handed presents that I'll probably enjoy more than he will.

Sedaris is a master of sardonic wit and, from what I can tell, has an eternal love-hate relationship with the human race. Mostly love, though.

When I saw him at a local book store a couple of years ago, he took time to meet and talk to anyone who had the patience to stand in line. He was a smoker at the time, so he'd periodically apologize to the crowd, nip out for a butt, and return to his place at the table.

I waited patiently for him that night. Probably a couple of hours. But it was worth it. We had a moment.

Everyone was given a sheet of paper on which to print our names, to expedite the process of inscribing our books. I'd written my ex's name on the sheet.

"Are you 'L'," Sedaris asked me, when my turn came for the audience.

"No," I admitted. "I'm Franny. "L" is my partner, and...well...we had a fight. It was my fault, so I'm getting this book signed as a gift."

"Whenever Hugh and I have a fight," he said, referring to his boyfriend, "I feel awful for days afterwards."

"I know how you feel," I said.

We exchanged a few other pleasantries, while Sedaris signed the book. Then he gave it back to me.

As I was walking away, I opened it up to the inscription.

He had written:

To "L"
Franny fucked up.
David Sedaris