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and go to Starbucks tonight, I thought. Tell him I have a hot date with a guy named Shane, and say it involves a video camera, and then leave the rest to his imagination. Or I could just go get it after work when my three cups of coffee have worn off and I’m ready for more. But I know me… there are a million and one things that could, and would, come up in the day preventing me from going—most predictably my inclination for not seeing things through. Isn’t that the first step in Alcoholics Anonymous? Admitting you have a problem? There’s AA, CA, NA, GA, SA, and so many other A’s. Shouldn’t there be PA? Procrastinators Anonymous? Except I guess everyone would mean to join and just… never get around to it.
    So I took the bull by the horns, or the goat by the teats, or the whatevs by the whatevs, and texted Coco:
    Got camera! Going to pick up now. Tell malc I’m getting a root canal. Or gall bladder removed.
    I dropped the kids back at home and kissed them goodbye. Then I walked a block to where my powder-blue Vespa, Lola (named after a cool tattoo I saw once), was parked, put on my helmet, and set off, a girl on a mission—not even realizing I had unwittingly stepped into a series of events that would turn everything I had ever known inside out and upside down, and would alter the lives of many people forever.

Chapter 5
    Â 
    When the ATM spit out $40.00 in cash, I could have sworn it said, “You’ve only got $9.48 left until next Friday’s paycheck, losah !”
    I was so excited/nervous to meet artist/undercover barista Shane that I sped to Studio City as fast as my scooter would go. When I arrived and saw only one guy working behind the counter, with Shane on his name tag, I almost turned around and ran out as he was totes adorbs, but looked way younger than Cooper. I’m open and fluid, and there are many exceptions I’d make for love, but cradle robbing? Not so much.
    I turned away from the counter and reminded myself that this was all about the
camera
and not necessarily the
camera seller
.
    â€œHey, I’m Maggie,” I said to him. “I’m here to buy your camera.”
    â€œOh, it’s not mine,” he answered.
    I don’t know which was louder, my exhale of relief or the sound of him steaming soy milk.
    â€œThe guy selling it just left it here and asked me to collect.”
    Hmmm… a little suspect. What if the camera didn’t work? Or the charger was left at Disneyland? I took a cursory glance through the case and all seemed in order. Camera, lens cap, instruction booklet, charger, cords. “So what if I have any problems with it?”
    â€œYou can contact the seller through the ad on Craigslist.”
    â€œOK.”
    We made the exchange, and he winked at me as he handed me one of those crazy lollipop birthday cake thingies that Starbucks sells and I SO don’t get. I don’t know which was scarier—the wink or the pink waxy ball on a stick. I thanked him, and asked for a bag, feigning fullness, but really I thought I’d take the freaky dessert to Malcolm, just in case he was pissed that I’d come in late. It always seemed to work for Coco.
    The boss wasn’t even there when I arrived. Maybe he was at the beauty parlor getting his puffy hair done. Coco took the camera bag and excitedly started rifling through. “This is so old school cool! Come on, let’s do a screen test.”
    â€œNo way, I have helmet hair. For reals.”
    â€œWe’re not gonna use the footage. Just to see if the thing works. What’s this?” She pulled an envelope out from the bag. “It was tucked under the lining.”
    â€œI don’t know. I didn’t see it before.” I took it from Coco and opened it. Inside was a MiniDV tape with a HELLO MY NAME IS sticker on it. But the name part was blank. “So should we play the tape and see if something’s on