But back to the coffee. I was here on a mission. I just spent nearly five bucks I didn’t have for some coffee concoction that tasted like the charred remains of Hitler’s soul, and I was not about to leave until I had asked for her phone number.

“I am the kid with the dirty red shoes. That’s not dirt, it’s blood.
”

“I like when wind works. But in this depression, does anything work? If it’s not…”

“At five in the morning, I was half asleep. The whole left side of my body was t…”

“She yawned so loudly that I wanted to use her mouth as a putt putt golf hole.”