I had to go to Walgreens today and a guy let me cut in front of him in line. He and his friend were standing there, waiting at the pharmacy counter and I sauntered up, all boob freckle aglow and he said, “You can go first.” and I said, “Really?” and he smiled wickedly and said, “I’m a gentleman.”
I don’t know for sure that it was the boob freckle, but I assume. I mean, I think we have to assume.
Speaking of scary things, I’m finding my grove with this year’s ghost stories. I think part of the problem is that I just had to get over the idea that they were going to be a continuation of last year’s. This year, I don’t think there’s as many that are anchored to a particular place, or at least not in the same way. They all take place in Nashville, but so far I feel like it’s more the people who are haunted than particular places.
I may change my mind, but for now, that’s my sense.
It never fails to amaze me how much pleasure writing these brings me, just these short little things that satisfy me so deeply.
I don’t know. I just like to think about it. So little in this world brings you unmitigated pleasure. You have to take it when you can.