









-Huh.
-Yeah.
-And then what?
-Headed over to the Senior High School.
-How was the Senior High School?
-Like everything else in Topeka c. 1958, it was amazing!
-Why?
-'Cos. It just was, okay.
-Okay.
-And then we went to the Post Office.
-The Post Office.
-Yeah.
-We have a Post Office here.
-I know that.
-Did you have to mail something?
-Not really.
-You just went to the Post Office.
-You seemed so excited before. What happened?
-I dunno. It was kind of an act.
-An act?
-Yeah. I guess. I dunno.
-Wow.
-I mean: Where'd you go next? An office building.
-Yes.
-Seriously?
-Yes. I went to an office building. Happy?
-Actually, no.
-And I went and looked at another office building.
-Then we went to the pool in Gage Park.
-But then. We went to Monkey Island.
-Oh, wow! Sounds exciting!
...I headed straight over to the VA Hospital!
-The VA Hospital! Sounds thrilling!
...and hopped in a helicopter to get an even better view of the VA Hospital!
-Wow! So many rectangles!
-Who else did you judge?
-Were there a lot of beatniks?
And the door keeps opening, and every time it opens, you're like "Johnnie?" but it's always some bouncer guy who doesn't let you in. And eventually, some other guy comes out with a box, and he's all like, "Sorry, dude, we're all full up with people who are on a real list. Not some fakey list where you gave us your personal info on the InterWeb. Peace out, homey, have a hat." And you take the hat, because, really, what else can you do? But you're thinking: "This hat is red. I wonder if the people inside are wearing fancy blue hats." And you resent it, but you know that the next time he sends you an e-mail, you'll come running, because the prospect of free whisky is just too enticing. Plus, bullshitting while waiting on the line with your real friends (Ya hear that, Johnnie!?) was kind of fun. But you'll still hate yourself in the morning.



I don't know when it happened exactly, but at some point toothbrushes became too fat to fit into the holes of the toothbrush holder in our bathroom. Now, instead sitting upright, pert and ready for action, our Rubenesque toothbrushes lounge around on their sides atop their putative "holder," making a mockery of all notions of rationality in the free market economy. Seriously, if one cannot count on toothbrush manufacturers and toothbrush holder manufacturers to agree upon a diameter and stick to it, what can one count on? "Do we need," I wondered, "a regulatory body for the toothbrush industry?"


