One of those delightful minty books that melts in your mouth and leaves a pleasant aftertaste. I wouldn’t call it great literature, but it caused a few smiles during the quick perusal.
Shane becomes a temp at an insurance company where he spends most of his time avoiding work (alphabetizing files) by sleeping on the toilet, drunk. He’s in love with his landlord’s wife, having been asked to have sex with her in exchange for a $200 reduction in rent (the sex is characterized at first as “like two dead fish being slapped together by an off duty clown.”) He’s in a “relationship” with Gwen, who lectures him about becoming a better corporate citizen. He has a friendship with the deaf receptionist at his dentist’s office, who turns up dead. The cops beat down his door and find him sleeping one off in a pile of salt.
First line goodness: “I was stealing saltshakers again.”
“She’d given up on me ever playing witty sitcom couple with her, so she’d started taking on both parts herself, feeding herself lines and then driving them home for canned laughs. Watching someone banter with themselves is fucking creepy. I felt like Howdy Doody.”