Serial Library passage Apr 21-2

21 Apr


I’m a little flabbier than I’d like to be, but, when you think about it, so what? Right? I mean, in the long run.

It’s hard to believe I’m here, actually. Actually, in a way, I’m not really here at all. I’m wherever I would have been. Down in the subway about now, I guess.

What’s that guy over there doing? Is he talking to himself or is he singing?

So, anyway, where was I?

I’ll tell you something, six months ago you wouldn’t have heard me say that: Where was I?

What I say is, It must be nice. I still say this, even though now it is me who it must be nice for. I still say the same goddamn thing.

I’ll tell you something else. This gut of mine, this flabby overhang, when I pictured myself in this situation, the flabby overhang never figured into it.

He is singing. I hate that. I hate a guy, where you know he isn’t right, and then he starts singing.

Anyway, what I was going to say was, if you ever looked over the fence and saw me here, you would be seeing a guy who isn’t here.

The height of laziness is the fact that I’ve got the newspaper here on the table beside me.

You have your reporters. You have your editors. You have your typesetters, etc. Some of these guys must get pretty dirty. You have all these guys, but you also have the guys who drive around in vans and put the papers in the paper boxes. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen these guys. It happens pretty early in the morning. I’ll tell you something, though. It makes me wonder about the whole operation. It gives me pause to consider.

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