On A Busy Day Twenty-two Thousand People

His Embarassment Would Have Pleased Me, But Once He Recovered, There Would Be That Awkward Period That Sometimes Culminates In A Handshake. I Didn't Want To Touch These People's Hands Or See Things From Their Point Of View, I Just Wanted To Continue Hating Them. So I Kept My Mouth Shut And Stared Off Into Space.

After The Trial, I Watched As Another Female Pathologist Collected Maggots From A Spinal Column Found In The Desert. There Was A Decomposed Head, Too, And Before Leaving Work She Planned To Simmer It And Study The Exposed Cranium For Contusions. I Was Asked To Pass This Information Along To The Chief Medical Examiner, And, Looking Back, I Perhaps Should Have Chosen My Words More Carefully. 'fire Up The Kettle,' I Told Him. 'ol'-fashioned Skull Boil At Five P.m.

Oh, For Christ's Sake,' I Hear. 'can We Please Just Try To Have A Good Time?' This Is Like Ordering Someone To Find You Attractive, And It Doesn't Work. I've Tried It.

I Just Looked At The Pattern Of My Life, Decided I Didn't Like It, And Changed.

One Thing I Like About The United States, And I Kind Of Miss About The United States, Is There's An Election Coming Up Here In England, But No One's Going To Have A Sign In Front Of Their House. Nobody's Going To Wear Buttons. And In France, Same Thing. In America I Like That People Have Signs And Buttons And Bumper Stickers. Sometimes You'll Smile At Someone From A Distance, Then You'll Get Up Close And You'll See Their Pin, And You're Like, "oh My God. I Wasted A Smile On You?"