Gary Shteyngart Romane & Geschichten

His eyes were sharp, intelligent, and completely mismatched with his stoned-hippie demeanor. "I'm The Phantom," he said. "Or Gary. Whatever. I haven't had a visitor since the Y2K scare." "Gary," Ben Carter gasped. "Gary 'The Glitch' Goodman? The guy who crashed the New York Stock Exchange in '88 just to see if he could?" "Allegedly," Gary winked. "Statute of limitations is up, right?" "You're a legend," Ben breathed, looking around the room with awe. "This... this is an analog server farm. Air-gapped. Totally invisible to modern surveillance."

Arthur cut her off and handed her this card of his which the lady took. I rolled my eyes. “He has a payment chart…he sure is living like a president.” Payment was made. Three of the security men I had earlier seen standing by the door came forward and started to lift the shopping bags out. Alpha Arthur effect, I guess. “Thanks for coming, ma’am. Have a nice day.” The lady said as I left. We took the elevator. Arthur made sure to look anywhere else which wasn’t at me. Thanks to the men carrying the shopping bags that somehow helped hid the awkwardness in the elevator.

The flat was a shoebox in East London. One bedroom each, one bathroom between us, kitchen barely big enough for two people to stand in. Rent was brutal but splitting it kept me from drowning. When Finn answered the ad I figured I had hit the jackpot. Australian, twenty seven, personal trainer. Tall enough to make the ceilings feel low, blond hair always messy from the gym, tan that looked permanent even in winter. He showed up with two duffels and a protein shaker, flashed that easy grin, said “G’day mate, let’s make this work.”

'' "Of course, let's go inside. Let me get you some food as well.'' 'God, I'm such a talented actor but a bad person. Here I am, pretending to care about someone I didn't even like.' "I know that you two hated each other, mostly because of Russell, but can we just pretend as if you two got along? Just for me.'' "Yes, now get in the car.'' There Felix was, sprawled out on my seventy thousand dollar white Poltrona Frau Kennedee Curved Sofa. Crying and eating up all my caviar with sour cream bread and drinking my expensive bottle of 1992 Screaming Eagle Cabernet.

You are an exconvict. I don't blame anyone for seeing me differently. I am a different man because I have done things I would never mention to survive. I have framed people to get more food. I have hidden things in unmentionable places in my body. I have been served food that had moss growing on it. I have suffered for a crime I did not commit, so anyone could understand if I have anger in my heart.

I still couldn't comprehend what they do and how they make that insane amount of money in such a short time. "Come on, we need to talk to you." Grady hold me lightly by the arm and ushered me inside my building. They waited for me to unlock my apartment then I walk to the fridge to get three bottled water. "Talk," I muttered as I took my seat on the kitchen stool. "You haven't bought a sofa?" "It's my studio apartment, I paint and I sleep," I shrugged to Percy's judgment-like words. "You can go if you're not comfortable here," I raised my brow, challenging him like old times.