Everyone crowds around like carrion to a corpse. Their mouths flapping and noshing like pigs at a trough, smashing their teeth and their tongues together, telling stories of past feedings behind hands which obstruct nothing.
I can’t hold myself comfortably upright with these creatures, so I hang back a while and let myself be known, that they can talk among each other after I’m gone and assure the naysayers that I did, in fact, make my appearance. Good on me.
When I’ve lingered long enough for my corpulence and filth to make the most perceptive of them uncomfortable enough to have the image burned into their pre-frontal cortices, I stash myself away in the garage. It’s better this way for everyone, and especially me.
I gaze off into the corner and imagine all of them nude. I have no interest in any of these people sexually, but it helps to pass the time and is a great exercise for remembering names.
