Houseguest

Mads, my Norwegian companion, and I were having lunch with our friend Trajan, a published author. He was telling us the story of how Leif Garrett had stayed with he and his wife Suzy about ten years back.

"So he just showed up?" I said.

"Yeah, he came by with a beer in his hand... completely bloodshot eyes. I think he strayed over to our door from a neighborhood party."

"And you just let him stay?"

"Well, Suze has always had this thing for Leif Garrett, and I think she was a bit star struck. We both lost our patience, though, when he wouldn't leave. I think the last straw was when he answered the door with coke all over his nose."

"Man, that's crazy. How did you eventually get him to bounce?"

"An intervention?"

"What? You called all his friends over?"

"No, we used mine. He was so out of it he couldn't really tell the difference. Once he came into the room and saw us all there, he could read the writing on the wall. He was out with the quickness."

"That's amazing, Tra, simply amazing. Waiter? Yes, waiter, I'm so sorry, but I think I found a scale in my monk fish tempura."