Bring Back Michael Keaton

I can barely breath in this oppressive weather. When I exhale the heat from deep within my body just hangs there on my mouth. It's this damned bushy handlebar moustache. I need to shave it. It gets in the way of literally everything. I can't get a job. When I eat or drink a comical amount of food gets caught in it. When I'm getting down with a pretty young lady, it is incredibly uncomfortable both for her and me. But I can't shave it. I have to be in the Batman movie.

"Yeah man, when I lived in LA I would do that shit all the time."

Gareth was an artist about town. I was talking to him at the Smiling Moose, an odd bar associated with early horror films, metal, punk and hockey. Gareth was drawing a figure on a block of wood, using a sort of stream of consciousness technique. It was starting to look like a dragon, a bit.

"Really? Is that how you made a living in LA?"

I was excited about the prospect of being in the new Batman movie. Chris Nolan picked Pittsburgh to shoot most of the movie, and I just happened to be unemployed.

"Yeah, every day, man. It was through cental casting, so they got a lot of shit. I would be on like... CSI.... uhhhh, I think it was Miami, or something. They would always pick the dudes with crazy hair, or handlebar moustaches." He pointed at the burden on my upper lip.

"Oh, awesome then. I'm hoping to be a cop or something. Or a nameless thug" Now I'm not a big guy, so I couldn't be a very intimidating thug. However, I could certainly play one of those strung-out, mentally unstable thugs; the ones who were traumatized by whatever villain they were working for that caused them to adopt the demeanor of a sick dog trapped in the corner.

So I kept it. I almost hope that I don't get a part as an extra in the movie, so I can shave this moustache. Now, don't get me wrong. It's an outstanding moustache. It looks great. But it's just so obtrusive. I'm tired of thinking I smell like BO all day because I ate chorizo earlier. But damn it all. You better fucking believe that I'm going to be in Batman. I absolutely hope I get a part. I'm not fooling anyone.

Gareth sent me a text message later with the finished product of his wood-art that he had been working on at the bar. The dragon-like figure turned out to be secondary. Gareth had added a crude face, viewed from the side. The face had the look of an invalid, and the dragon perched on top. It was bizarre. I thought it was hilarious. I'm not sure what it was meant to be, though. I suppose that was sort of what I was going for with this moustache.