Did that book tour laundry post a couple days ago and now a reader’s comment reminds me I had completely forgotten (I’ve written a lot of things I’ve completely forgotten at this point) the opening lines of “Off Main Street“:
I am a stranger in a strange town, and the man standing beside me has just removed his pants. There are mitigating factors—he is well-kempt, we are in a Laundromat, and as a registered nurse I have seen this sort of thing before—but they fail to completely dissipate the tension inherent in sharing close quarters with a pantless stranger. I am in Seattle, on Day Seven of a paperback book tour that will have me on the road for twenty-nine of thirty-one days in October.
Always carry a little packet of laundry soap. And an extra pair of pants.
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