As hard as it might be to put this in context
without a Xanax, all ‘adults’ are crazy.
I tried it once, and I can put that in context
without medication of any sort. It’s that
true. It is also true—at least every once in a
while—that the fruits of our labors—both
individually and collectively—are undignified.
Every once in a while, is all I’m saying. Futile.
Shall I expose them to proper ettiquette? she
wonders. Wait, let me look it up, he replies. To
which she rolls her eyes, absolutely knowing that
Amy Vanderbilt never envisioned this particular
disaster. He finds the tome, its dust cover all
dusty and torn. The correct way to handle one-
self in the...situation we were just discussing...
happens to be...all of the above. A black lab-
rador hops over the coffee table and onto her
lap, which makes her realize yet again how
often she takes things way too literally. This
tendency, she surmises, is directly tied to class.
Later, I go fishing. It is there that the black lab-
rador finds me, initially startling my chill com-
posure. I imagine that the dog is going to
hop right into the fish pond. As he gets
close enough in his romp toward me
for me to see that he is, yes, he is
foaming at the mouth; and this is
much too late for me to plan a dis-
aster strategy. Or, more approp-
riately, a strategy from which to avoid
the quickly growing potential for disaster.
And disaster strategies are my strong point.
Besides, I had been fishing all afternoon
without a nibble of a minnow. It was then
that I somehow noticed that the red and
white cork attached to my fishing line—
and me still holding the rod awaiting the
lethal clamp of the labrador’s jaws—had
just been swallowed by the darkening pond.
