Day 943

Exhibit 1 is the sad novelist delicately picking his nose while talking on my telephone, his scuffed-up tac boots crossed up under a coffee table outside Zig Zag. This is authentic behavior: the nouveau philosophe acting like he is a jorno. At least I assume that's what he's doing. He glances up at me and then continues his picking and his conversation. "... in this country!" he shouts into the receiver. It's a joke. He is talking to his agent about the war. Much laughter. He puts something in the ashtray.