One cup to my mouth and a shout: They have pastries up there too! "Oh, thanks, we didn't ask you." Or that's what those middle westish faces said, with their smile and wave and we appreciate your input. I'm in the corner. The room is empty. Chairs from middle school. A vowel on the tip of my tongue; I mean a bowel with a grip like a lung; it's time to release that exit-stential need and sit down on the porcelain's uncomplaining crouch.