Hermaphrodites & Me

Kate’s got her book group over tonight, so I have absented myself from the premises. The reason is that, you know, it’s kind of her thing. We cooked dinner — some “Greek” pizzas (pesto, eggplant, kalamata olives, red onion, and feta cheese) — and then the group started showng up to discuss the most recent reading, “Middlesex.’ It’s a novel about hermaphrotism. I left to walk up to a cafe on Shattuck Avenue that has a free wireless connection set up; when I departed, there was a discussion of genitalia and hormones and such (I wonder what they’re talking about in the swing states tonight).

Anyway, to the cafe. As I said, the WiFi here is free. And ever since it’s been offered, this place has been jammed with people working on laptops. I wonder how it works out for the owners, because it never seemed to me like they had trouble getting people to come in here. I’d think that people would be tempted to do just what I’m doing now: Buy a coffee, then park yourself and do your online stuff, and do it and do it and do it until long after you’re down to the fine, flavorful grounds at the bottom of your grande cappucino. Tonight — I took the picture through the window with my phone from the one free table I found, on the sidewak — there’s lots of computing going on.

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