![This is good](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/13e65b_c487cbd7d8754e43a86259079a75a122~mv2.jpg/v1/fill/w_640,h_640,al_c,q_85,enc_auto/13e65b_c487cbd7d8754e43a86259079a75a122~mv2.jpg)
Will Toledo sits calmly, but anxiously in his lime colored Corvette. We’ve just ordered a pizza, but it’s taking forever.
Will has parked just outside of my house in Seattle and won’t come in. It’s the middle of November and he’s wearing a striped tshirt in a convertible with the top down. I’m super cold in my down jacket and am extremely curious as to how he’s alive – it must be 20 degrees out.
![Will with fan](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/13e65b_57c9c57e5d4c4c7aa8f69d8c2be8c80e~mv2.jpg/v1/fill/w_640,h_640,al_c,q_85,enc_auto/13e65b_57c9c57e5d4c4c7aa8f69d8c2be8c80e~mv2.jpg)
I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot, so I don’t say anything. For 5 minutes we sit while I fiddle with my recorder which is just my phone, but I’m not super handy with tech and I’m praying the pizza shows up. Finally, a somewhat irritated Will Toledo reminds me that I have to “do the interview”. I really wanted to appease him and begin, but he wouldn’t come inside, and it was Thursday so the street cleaners were going up and down my street making my speech nearly inaudible – for some reason they cleaned my street like 3 or 4 times.
![Will on a boat](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/13e65b_0350174d2d1444f2aaad5acd30f3ec66~mv2.jpg/v1/fill/w_640,h_640,al_c,q_85,enc_auto/13e65b_0350174d2d1444f2aaad5acd30f3ec66~mv2.jpg)
At about this point, I realize that we never discussed how we were going to pay for the pizza (I didn’t have any money). I began sweat bullets as I asked my next question: how much cash do you have on you? Will sort of smirked as he pulled out a wad of 100’s. He threw a couple right in my face. At this point I knew I had won him over. We laughed for hours, but Will Toledo was right, we needed to “do the interview”.
![Will on the street](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/13e65b_8380b4417e0c4591aafbe163bdb183e1~mv2.jpg/v1/fill/w_640,h_640,al_c,q_85,enc_auto/13e65b_8380b4417e0c4591aafbe163bdb183e1~mv2.jpg)
The doorbell rings. I look over at Will Toledo and ask if he could get that. He furiously gets out of the vehicle and walks about 15 feet to my front door and taps the delivery guy on the shoulder. The delivery guy is startled as will throws another couple of 100’s in his face. After he reluctantly picks up wet 100’s off the ground, he catches eyes with Will Toledo and his eyes light up. “oh my, Will Toledo! I’m going to your show tonight”, he franticly speaks. Will didn’t have a show that night, but felt no mind to inform the man.
![Will with a guitar](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/13e65b_73db8fa07f0b44a7a2f5e11a96701885~mv2.jpg/v1/fill/w_640,h_640,al_c,q_85,enc_auto/13e65b_73db8fa07f0b44a7a2f5e11a96701885~mv2.jpg)
Will Toldo reenters the Vette and we commence eating. The pizza is olives and mushrooms – not my fave. “Do you want some ranch?”, I ask. “I’m good, ill just have whatever you don’t finish, said Will”. After about 6 hours the interview began to wind down. I noticed a half filled/half empty dipping cup of ranch in the street. Not only is Will a complete liar, now these fucking street cleaners have to come back.