Twilight of Good Ideas

I was at my apartment door, fishing through the coins and scrap paper in my pocket on the way to the keys. You, as my neighbor, were at your door. It was hard to tell if you were coming or going. When I entered the hallway you had been at your door and now as I almost entered mine you were still there, fumbling through your jacket as if in a tank of molasses. “Hey Buddy, do you have the internet?” You asked from beyond left field. I hesitantly said yes, holding on to the ‘s’. “My cousin just moved in and he likes the internet, you know? Maybe you want to share yours? You could just string that cord, you know, the firewall–the firewire? Whichever. You could just bring that shit out your balcony door and into our window. We’d give you like ten-bucks a month or something. It ain’t too expensive.”

It took me a few moments of reading your face, watching your eyes narrow and mustache jump as you sniffed back the snot that slowly eked from your nostrils, to realize you were serious. “I’ll think about it.” I said, closing my door behind me.