I pulled out two pairs of trousers, both of a kind off-white color, and added them to my shopping cart. Suddenly, some one behind me interrupted me."I...wouldn't choose both of the same color, and the one on your left just isn't you."I turned. A young woman around my age (very early twenties) stood before me."Choose another pair, something in a dark color. And the one on the left just isn't you."I looked at the trousers. They looked the same."How are they different?" Pleats. The one on the right. My belly was grumbling uncomfortably, and I knew I had to find a bathroom. I stepped to the curb and tried to remember where I'd left that goddamn car. I remembered, and it was a blur between that moment and this moment now as I prepared and sat down, again noting the filth, the green buggers, shit streaks, and dirty limericks. Although they appeared hazy at best, I easily made out one note left in the stall for other's reading enjoyment. I saw letters scrawled on the door: 4 bloody good time,. More

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