Sometimes, as I stand line at the coffee shop across from my office, I yearn to become goateed and virtuous. To pedal a single-speed. I’d get on the wifi and Facebook with obtuse lucidity, Tweet the illuminating link. I’d delete the calendar from my suite of applications, freeing me up to espouse pop-culture-based, theoretical dictums with a disarming irony and faux winsomeness that never quite cloaks a deep rage that I’m working to affect. I’d become an anonymous critic. Plan a vacation to Havana, before the Americans get there and ruin it, of course. I’d wear suede Hush Puppies and a tattoo on my forearm that reads “tattoo.”
And then I pay, and take my coffee to go.
Tags: News by Bill Kerig
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