Some books have the ability to stain you with whatever they are made of. This book is made up of ugly, hopeless misery and I wore the stain for about a week. Work and daily living seemed like drudgery. Everyone had a motive that was designed to hurt me. Friends shook their heads and moved away for a while.
The main character is a bartender in LA and this book is about his life among the regulars. The story is told in second person. This made it feel like an embarrassing acquaintance standing next to me at a party. I kept feeling like I was in biology class with a microscope and each scene moves up a magnification with a nearly audible click. Crazy drunk person - crazy drunk person with an issue - crazy drunk person with an issue that feels hopelessly familiar. You get the idea.
When literature affects me like this, I remember why I love to read so much. I liked being stained for a while - I like being touchable.
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