This image was lost some time after publication, but you can still view it here.

A prick-eared reader tunes into half of an extremely loud Bruce Willis phone conversation, leaving us with a few questions: Who's on the other end of that call? Is it a good idea to hand your child a credit card while you chat away? Did Willis suffer hearing damage while shaking his ass in a gay, German disco?

Walked into the tiny bread box that is La Brea Bakery yesterday to grab a quick sandwich when my ear drums nearly burst thanks to a deafening cell phone conversation being had by one Bruce Willis.

The big shot (with noticeably large pecs in a nearly transparent tight white t-shirt) was pacing back and forth in a space no larger than an airplane aisle acting real chummy-like with some dude on the other end of his phone. Willis is taller and more fit than I would have thought, and certainly more strident.

His middle daughter (Scout? Drought? Gloomy?) was slouching against the wall trying to stay out of his way despite her big pair of turquoise cowboy boots that she was having trouble walking in.

Willis (LOUDLY to guy on phone): You know, you're invited over for dinner tonight, around 6:00.

(Brief pause as the guy on the other end asks which castle he's supposed to go to. Daughter slumps away over to frozen cookie case as Willis strides back into her area.)

Willis: No, we're at the beach now. You should come over.

(...another brief pause as Willis heads back toward the cookie counter and his daughter rolls against the deli case away from the cacophony.)

Willis: Okay buddy. Well, look, I'm really glad you're back in town.

(Willis hangs up and strides two steps over to daughter, handing her what appears to be a credit card. She takes the card and he leaves but the screen door doesn't quite smack him in his tight ass as I had hoped. Instead the place empties out. The kid, who is standing near the back the place, schlumps up toward the cash register with the credit card held out toward
the cashier. Suddenly, some unrecognizable studio exec walks in and grabs her by the shoulders.)

Unrecognizable studio exec (patting Willis kid on shoulders wracking his brain searching for whatever weird name she happens to have): Hey! Hi! What are you doing?

Willis Kid (softly): Hi.

Unrecognizable studio exec (gesturing toward Campanile, where her MIA father is loudly carrying on): Hey, we're right next store, why don't you come over?

Willis kid (softly): I'm going with my dad to Melrose.

Unrecognizable studio exec: SHOPPING!??

Willis kid (shrugs her shoulders): Yeah...

Unrecognizable studio exec (actuely aware he's unable to make any in-roads with the sullen tween): OK, well we're right next store...

(Willis kid nods. She shambles in her big boots back up to the counter but her order has been lost in the shuffle. She slouches over the counter and pushes her credit card into the void.)