Successful and cheap plundering of Fahrenheit Books before "Capote" today. I hadn't been in for more than a year and the store has moved. It's not ten feet wide with "Howards End"-type tottering piles of books anymore. I scored hardcovers of Blindness and Pippi Longstocking and trade paperbacks of Tim Drum and Waterland. Happy happy.
Returning to the Mayan, I half-recognized a woman passing by. We each turned over a shoulder to glance at one another again. I spoke first: "Dot Org?" And so it was. She and her friend had just emerged from "Brokeback Mountain" and were headed to the Hornet for a drink. I think she might have been the one who started the defunct Dot Org book club and whom I offended by scorning Anne Lamott's Hard Laughter. Oops.