I am what is basically thought of as basically this time–oh I repeated–but, anyway, the first time is this that I’m saying, that basically it is the first time that I came here and I’m pretty sure it is the last time that I come here. It is that for sure because every time I go someplace first it is the last. This might be due to me, although I try not to think about it that way, although what other way is there to think of it if you are the only one experiencing what you experience. It’s the way that they look at me and they make a face. Sometimes it comes immediately, or sometimes a little later, or sometimes at the end. And I have to wonder what it was they saw or heard that told them, it was probably that thing on my neck or the hair I forgot, or my voice that I let slide down too low, but as soon as they catch it, they get a little squinty-eyed and curious and all of them are thinking I am lying to them, I know it, or at least that’s how it feels.
