Am I hallucinating, or did I just see his fingers make the shoo motion?

When Jennifer approached, Liza could see that she looked excruciatingly ready to leave. She wore a lovely floor-length halter-top dress with minimal accessories, effortlessly elegant. Liza wondered if that was something they taught at whatever elite liberal arts college the woman had obviously attended. With Jennifer’s hand resting comfortably on Dorsey’s shoulder, their bodies close but not indecent, the reporter began the interview.

“Is this just the beginning of your redevelopment plans for Merrytown?” he asked, almost immediately forgetting Liza.

It was slowly sinking into Liza that she had lost. Whatever her plans were for tonight were being pushed aside just like she was. Why do people like this always feel they can take advantage of the powerless with no consequences? Why does he not even give me the human decency of a greeting? Wasn’t she in the same world breathing the same air as him? God, this is so unfair! Dorsey’s elbow nudged at her side, ever so slightly pushing her out of the frame. This was, as Liza would later recall it to her sisters, “The. Last. Effing. Straw.”

Liza looked in her ridiculously tiny purse—not large enough to fit anything bigger than her lipstick—which gave her an idea. She grabbed a thick white cloth napkin and scribbled furiously. When she was done, she held the large napkin up behind Dorsey Fitzgerald, photobombing his entire live interview. He spoke earnestly and gestured dynamically, never knowing what the whole world behind him saw scratched out in deep red lipstick:

Netherfield Must GO!

#Southeastgivesajam

MR. MEME

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Hi, all.

I have been forwarded all manner of memes involving the events of last night. Some of them lean toward the inappropriate. I can understand the novelty of such an event as this but would thank you all to cease all company forwards or/and communications regarding a certain napkin and unnamed protester.

BTW, Sharon, DFitz is my email. DFatz is your office gossip buddy. Let’s not make this mistake again.

Dorsey clicked the link for what was at least the thirteenth time today. His DC offices were not so well-appointed as the ones in Philadelphia. The city had some weird ordinance against skyscrapers, so the brutalist, bureaucratic buildings stared you right in the face. The day did promise to produce some first-rate weather. As a child, he’d always loved to look at storms and stare the intensity down.