Errand Boy

Heros Beginning

3/16/17
No editing
----------

I'm batman.

Ok ok I'm not batman but as a child I had always wanted to be. Living by the night, kickin' ass and sippin' on Cheval-Blanc by day. The whole Lone Ranger, devil may care, fuck you attitude was appealing and lets not forget the money. It was a stupid dream, a childish dream but a dream nontheless.

At what age do you wake up and realize that your dreams won't come true?

Well for me never or at least I don't thinks so. You see I may not have a bat mobile or a big ass mansion but I'm got Vivian, a sweet night job and a wicked left hook and that's all I need.

So I'm basically batman if you take away the money, bat ears and witty butler.

So who am I? I already answered your question. I'm batman.

Oh you want to know my real name. I don't give my name out to strangers but I guess we're acquaintances now.

The names Marsh, Brandon Marsh, it's nice to make your acquaintance. Nah to formal. Good to meet you. So boring. Howdy neighbor? Oh fuck it.

I really hate inner monologue's.

The point I was trying to make was... Shit I forgot.

Well this is what I get for talking to myself while driving on I-405. Fuck you LA traffic!

I weave my way around cars and trucks, some flipping me off as I pass. There's no reason for them to be pissed at the one smart person on this highway aka me, obviously.

You see I-405 is a parking lot ninety percent of the time, I blame the stuck up CEOs and wannabe actors but the jury's still out on that one. It's not like I care though, I don't get caught in the ever eternal wait of traffic thanks to Vivian.

The love of my life. My heart and soul belong to her. My gorgeous, sexy, motherfucking hot Vivian. Dressed in red and always ready for a long drive.

I got her from a neighbor down by my old house back when I was 14. She cost me a five hundred bucks at the time and I rebuilt her back to her former glory.

So far she's lasted 5 years and 7 failed relationships. Honestly though none can compare to her.

I take the exit and head up to Beverly Park. Beverly Park is close Beverly Hills only it's more expensive and more exclusive.

I make a speedy tight turn on to Main Street then slow down when I spot a cop looking for people in a rush. He didn't see me speeding thank god cause I can't afford another ticket on my record.

I see the hotel and pull into a parking lot across the street from it.

I flip the kick stand and take off my black helmet, hanging it on a handle. Turning off the engine I sweep my leg off the side to stand and glance up at the overtly extravagant palace.

Grand Cul Hôtel aka fancy ass hotel is as pompous as you can image. Golden arches frame the front door and gargoyles look over the property as if to patronize the poor who can only pass and dream of sleeping a night in its chambers. A garden surrounds the entrance, lush with flowers incasing fountains of ocean blue water and only the healthiest palm trees are sparingly placed to finish the look. It was all obviously designed by skilled professionals and well kept.