Tore a Hole in Your Favorite Disguise

we must have been in Holly's room for an hour, sitting like that kind of weird grit that collects in corners. it was story time and it was my turn to do the honors.
"my father is a drug counselor, and often has clients who have access to some very funny ol' junk, including like miniature sail boats made of popsicle sticks, paintings on velvet, and other kitsch items...they also cook for him often, especially the Puerto Rican ones, as is custom. like a Rican can't meet another Rican without cooking him something. my father brings the dishes to family dinners for everybody to sample. good dishes with cabbage & cod & rice & beans made with sweat & love. but you always feel weird eating it. after all, it IS made by heroin addicts, like really old scuzzy amputee ones...it's funny because these people have always pursued my father. they would become obsessed with him, as like the embodiment of the cure for their disease. i remember ducking behind corners with him trying to avoid the bastards...a lot of them lived in his nieghborhood, and would come up to him on the street to talk about their addiction, wanting more therapy, more attention. these were beneficiaries of City-run programs that were always tightening the belt, and so people were always wanting more. my father would wear sunglasses everywhere we went as a disguise, but some of the more discerning addicts could see right through them. a security guard who worked at my father's clinic was low on cash one year, and sold a Telecaster guitar and a practice amp to him for $200.00. the guitar is worth $800.00 easily, perhaps more. but the guy was behind in his rent, as his girlfriend had cashed his check and spent the money on clothes. it's the same guitar i used on all of our records & tours. lately i feel like it's been wearing its case as a disguise".
a lull in the music downstairs reminded me of just how quiet the room had become. Rand took two quick drags off a two centimeter joint that had magically & mysteriously appeared, then grabbed up some tangled guitar cables on the floor. "i think we're on now", he said, and made for the door.