SUPER FAT DUDE IN A HUGE RUSH: I don’t have time for this conversation, what do you want
DIMINUTIVE FEMININE IMP: I just wanted to know how you felt today
SFDIAHR: I couldn’t really say
DFI: What about now?
SFD: Nothing has changed. I’m the same. Less busy now
DFI: Does “bumble-bee tuna” have real bumblebee meat in it?
DFI: What’d you do last night?
S: I was at the Miami Bart Fare
D: In New York?
S: Yeah, A-town
D: What does A-Town stand for again?
S: Nothing. That’s just the name: “A-Town”
D: It doesn’t stand for “Ass-Town” or “Andrew-Town” or something like that?
S: Nope. A = A.
D: OK… Ready to eat?
S: I ate already
D: What? We had plans!
S: And I—had Unbearable Urges.
D: Well, come sit with me and have a whiskey while I eat. I’m starving.
S: OK. Did you read Dwight Garner’s review of the Larry McMurtry’s new memoir? He quotes McMurtry’s “long held belief that age doesn’t favor the novelist.”
D: That means you should write your novel immediately. Tonight.
S: Yes. Otherwise I will get old and my “fiction” will grow pallid
D: who knows, maybe it’ll grow “pellucid”