04.23.17

it's a sultry year at the film festival; i realized i didn't have time to go home and nap before i met joe at an evening screening, so i decided that if a thrift store would sell me a shirt to replace the rain-sodden crew tee i've worn for the last week, by god, i would wear it. the clear winner was an old, soft ralph lauren plaid from the housing works down on 17th street, and i buttoned it up to my neck in a bar's bathroom. "no, no," joe said. "you look like a vato."