Friday, September 28, 2012
Say you're the only person at a 20-stool horseshoe-style bar. Uno. Solo. Dolo. Another guy walks towards the bar, skips the first 18 stools and sits down next to you. It's like watching a man walk past eight empty urinals to stand next to the guy at number 10. There's an unwritten rule for that somewhere. Maybe the guy thought I owed him money.