Prospect tells me to pound dirt. She was the last in a series of unsuccessful follow-ups. I lay on my shag-carpet floor, sweating in the late summer heat. I roll over and check my watch...it's 9:30 AM and the liquor store just opened. God is merciful.
If you need me, I'll be behind your local Jersey Mikes, knee-deep in 99 bananas and munching on yesterday's bread.