Doing them all, in one sitting, was part of my recovery from them.

Once I did em, would no longer be able to do em! How I saw it.

But come 2 a.m., it became apparent I wasn’t gonna conk.

And my bus was at 8:30 a.m., for our 11 a.m. meet time.

Only way out was through!

Re-upped near sunup, pre-shower and -final packing of things.

Leaving me a key’s worth for the day in case I started crashing.

Which I did, right about the time we evaluated our third, too-expensive menu.

Might’ve even proposed the coffee shop stop specifically to re-up.

And, to add sus-ness to injury, I not only killed the last of it but snorted it.

In the bathroom, without telling editor bae, while she thought I was peeing.

Then licked the bag like a fiend.

Tf was wrong with me.

“What do you mean non-consensual?” I asked editor bae, trying to calibrate my vision.

“I mean I literally said No. There was no ambiguity.”

“Je-zus,” I said.

“What the fuck,” I said, earnestly furious.

As furious as one could be on five points of uncut MDMA.

I didn’t know why she was telling me this.

Hearing her tell me what she told me, I didn’t not empathize.

I wanted to protect her.

I felt rage.

Racked my brain for who it coulda been.

Considered how I might track down and inflict pain on him.

But I misunderstood her.

It wasn’t about me.

Her telling me this didn’t preclude me from those very same tendencies that made him do what he did.

Those very same potentialities.

But that’s how I took it.

“I’m one of the good ones!”

2

SEYMOUR

Good Friday 2018

Postmates was piloting a new alcohol function.

You could pick up alcohol, so long as you scanned the customer’s ID.

Only, they hadn’t figured it out according to the specific order, just to the restaurant type.

I didn’t figure this out till I’d biked from Rittenhouse to a bar in the Gayborhood, then 5 miles north to the Temple dorms. So Broad and like Diamond. Way up there. To deliver an order of fries.

Just fries.

But bc these fries were from a bar, my phone kept refusing payment unless I scanned the customer’s ID.

“I mean, I only have my school ID,” the girl said, shrugging. “And anyways I’m only 18.”

She looked at the precautionary friend she’d brought down with her, who shrugged back.

“Jesus fuck this fucking app,” I said, pacing, tryna figure out the move.

Undergrads in sweats and slides, shuffling in and out the vestibule, through the security turnstile.

The guard on staff eyed me.

Put his hand on maybe a Taser.

Gave him a look like Don’t even with me, bro.

Before going, “OK, know what? Just take em,” handing over the paper bag. “I’ll figure it out.”