I forgot to mention that I had a barbecue on Sunday and it was super-fun and we all ended up sitting around this weird thing called the octagon until late and everyone was dancing and laughing and drinking and talking, and laughing some more. Would you like to know who came? Whit and Bryant and Krisztina, and Zohar, and Carolyn, and my super-foxy girlfriend Olga and her roommate Lize who also happens to be a super-fox. That’s who. Okay so there’s this mexican tire place across from our office named Scorpion Tire and Bryant and I often make fun of it because it’s such a weird place, like the building is painted with hugely ugly red and yellow stripes and the logo is a disturbingly lopsided gothic script that seems more appropriate for a kid’s haunted house. Also the name is kind of baffling because scorpions are associated with stinging and piercing and brittleness, which are not words that work well with the idea of tire repair. Usually you see the guys sitting around on plastic chairs in the shade in front of the building because I guess business is kind of slow. But I’ve been driving around on a spare for months so we decided to stop by, and it was the best! The price for the tire repair was insanely cheap and the guy was really super-great and friendly and told us all sorts of amusing anecdotes I think. He was a superhumanly talented tire-repairman who seemed to rely on some kind of sixth sense in finding the slow leak. Then there was a customer with a great beautiful truck getting a tire fixed and he told us some amusing anecdotes too I think. While he was working we sat down in the plastic chairs and it was kind of weird to sit there in front of the tire shop looking at our own small office storefront across the street, now temporarily deserted. After a while bryant turned to me and said, "This would perhaps be our lot, had we been dealt a different hand."
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