Ricci walks into a bar, bartender says, Say, aren’t you the guy who makes the perfume?
ha ha
How many times does he have to put up with this, Ricci thinks, when will the humiliation end? The half dozen listeners in plastic chairs in the crowded corners of downtown bookstores while the cappuccino machine whooshes in the background. The interviews for web sites no one has ever heard of. The bad perfume jokes.
He orders a cosmo, no ice, and thinks of jumping off the Brooklyn Bridge.
Where is his Nina this very instant, he thinks bitterly, what charmed life is she leading? Meanwhile he dreams his pathetic dream of the day when the bartender asks her, Aren’t you the gal who writes the books?
In the beginning was The Word. Then came OG. OGtheBLOG was born.
by 
What did you learn in school today? Sharing.
Dear Nino,
I was just bragging yesterday about having read at Words Alive with you in September (I was the one with the laundry poems), and the woman I was talking to thought you were female. I thought “No, not Nina; Nino’s publicity machine needs work”. I will loan her my signed copy of your latest tome. One reader at a time. I have enjoyed reading your work, and will likely continue to brag about my brush with greatness! This is your positive feedback note of the day. Hope you liked it. Best wishes, Jennifer
Hi, Jennifer. Thanks for my positive feedback for the day. We could all use a regular service like that.