read
write
members
about
account

 

datedatememberrandomsearch

August 30, 2012
“What’s your shirt say?” was the question from the woman at the coffee stand. I replied that it was the first line of 1984. She turned to pour an iced coffee -- black, no espresso -- while I waited. “1984? I don’t know what that is.”

“A book.” As she returns to the counter I perceive no sign of recognition. “You know, Big Brother, the totalitarian state, all that? Written in the forties?”

“Oh, it’s an old book.”

On the radio a caller is talking about his position in the company that is the national regulatory body for beer pong.