He told himself he wasn't missing anything.

That Seethless ceremony had taken place a year ago. Seeth had responded in kind, with the result that he and his alma mater had parted company prior to his graduation. Hyperactive, his high school counselors had called him. He was pumped, full of adrenaline and suppressed energy and in no mood to close his eyes, even temporarily. If you showed too late you had your choice of sleeping standing up or lying down on top of somebody else. The bed, couch, and kitchen table would be occupied.

Besides which, the place was probably full to overflowing by now. Trouble was, the day would be more boring than the night. He considered returning to the apartment, just giving up on the night and crashing 'til tomorrow. He checked the watch he wore high up on his forearm so that his friends wouldn't know he had the slightest interest in what time it was. Still, there was no denying the night was dull enough to bore a turtle. At least the world was compelled to take notice of him. The pleasure this provided was decidedly muted, but it was better than nothing. So he was forced to fall back on the old standby of giving passing motorists the finger and smirking as they pretended not to notice, speeding up slightly as they hurried on past, their eyes fixed unswervingly to the road ahead. He couldn't even find a stray cat to kick around. *1* It was always slow in Albuquerque on Tuesday nights, but tonight was worse than usual. Herman Melville, Moby Dick, chapter XCIII There are certain queer times and occasions in this strange mixed affair we call life when a man takes his whole universe for a vast practical joke.

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