” “She’s cool, Paul; send her up.” “Oh, Ok Sam. You have a good one.” I hung up the phone, then hit the intercom button to buzz Rashid,...my producer. He’s this short Indian guy who spends most of his time at work talking on his cell phone during my show to his family back in India. Occasionally, I bug him with stuff, but he let’s me do pretty much whatever I want, and doesn’t tell the station manager when I screw up. I guess it’s not too bad to have him as my producer. “Hey Rashid, you in. " I don't think I was ever that good for him. If I'd been better, maybe he wouldn't have left." And maybe he would've? Maybe your problems weren't in the bedroom? If you had a strong relationship, maybe the physical side of things would've worked out?" I suppose. I know we drifted apart. I didn't know what he was doing most of the time. We didn't talk that much." See?" I should've asked more questions. I should've been more interested in what he does." And he could've been more interested in. More

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