This content is available to subscribers and issue purchasers.
A night in a gorilla suit made a new man of Rich. That woman from the wardrobe department was disappointed when he took off his mask, but he still got her number. Then he threw up in the pool and passed out beneath a Babylonian arch. Overall a success, even with the ride of shame back to the Valley, maskless on the Metro B line, getting long looks from the vet in the Vietnam hat. The gorilla suit was pregnant with party odors—barf and spilled Pliny the Elder IPA in his fur and the amaretto sour that got hurled in