Something about the commonly acceptable shifting of position while in the following situations: standing on a subway platform, waiting outside the therapist’s office, getting into an elevator, placing your coat in a coatroom that is actually the host’s bedroom.
Something about meetings about meetings.
Something about membership fees, cardboard coffee cup sheaths, and structural support.
Something about the drivers license photo where my shirt is falling off my shoulders.
Something about sleeping.
Something about how every man she’d ever been with left her a manuscript. One that he’d written or fodder for her own.
Tekserve’s old fashioned 5-cent glass bottle Coca-Cola machine is there solely to keep you from crying as they diagnose just how fucked up your computer is. Right?
