“What was your favorite childhood food?” We were helping my father transfer funds from one account to another today when we stumbled over this question today. This is where we’ve come to, an international banking conglomerate asking us what our favorite childhood food was. We got the question wrong. Twice. We had one guess left and we would be locked out. Locked out from our god damn money because we couldn’t remember if it was “peanut butter,” “peanut butter and jam” or maybe “peanut butter & jam.”
I was thinking of the time I took too much LSD. I was nineteen and we had hiked halfway across town to someone’s house where we thought we could get some downers but he wasn’t home and things were getting really strange, strange, that is, in the few moments where I was lucid enough to realize how strange things were. My friend wanted to get to the roof of the campus library where he thought he would meet god and I wanted no part of that so I convinced Steve Hoy to take me to the health center where I came to in an an elevator with a nurse asking me, “What is your name? What is your name?” I had no idea.
Both situations were satisfactorily resolved.