Christopher Lee Lewis
Greater Los Angeles · writer of stories
About
Christopher grew up in Illinois, but has called Southern California home for over twenty years — long enough to miss Illinois winters, but never far from his Midwest roots.
He writes personal essays and humor pieces drawn from everyday life, the constant being the absurdity that surrounds him. While the world seems intent on getting stranger by the day, Christopher remains a reluctant pillar of sanity, documenting the chaos along the way. His writing is shaped by a punk ethos: unpretentious, honest, and never taking itself too seriously.
Latest from Substack
The office was small, dusty, and dingy, and filled with signed photos of '70s and '80s butt-rockers. Up near the desk, a sign hung that read, "Employees Must Carve Slayer into Forearms Before Returning to Work." Cash is best, but Venmo is second best. It makes my wife smile...
Read More →Sometime in 2003, my band played a show in Nebraska at a small venue attached to a larger venue. The promoter let us know that George Thorogood was playing the larger room next door, and we were welcome to attend George's show after ours — simply show our wristbands to security for entry. Our set went poorly, roughly 50 were in attendance, but we got wind that the George Thorogood show was sold out...
Read More →I picked up the receiver and dialed the four-digit numerical pattern on the number pad. When the person on the other end answered, I burped, "A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L." A different letter with each burp. I was eleven...
Read More →Arrival time: 9:47 AM. Appointment time: 10:00 AM. Exam Room entry: 10:07 AM. Doctor arrival: 10:49 AM. "Sorry to keep you waiting," he said. I think he was having an asthma attack. I had never seen him huff and puff like that before...
Read More →