Warm but loud

It is usually quite quiet at 60 Wall Street. The silence is pressing and the cold depressing, but I wore my leg warmers and an extra layer and was, therefore, relatively comfortable.

The "occupants" at 60 Wall Street play chess and backgammon, burp, and listen to 1010 Wins. There's one burper occupant who always sits in the same place. I think she uses burping to scare people away because her burping increases as your proximity to her increases. I stay away from her, but last night she came up behind me and shouted, "Go to hell!"

Burping doesn't lend to her credibility, so I kept on working, after a moment of readjustment. Last weekend when I was down there another occupant of 60 Wall Street came up to me and asked if I was an artist and then told me my drawings looked like electrocardiograms. In this case, I appreciated both the question and the observation.

I continued working on my "unstraightline drawings" (made with my collection of craved rulers) and drank my tea. A little later, a man sat down at a nearby table with a battered laptop in his hands, he opened the lid, and I looked over. Catching his eye, I noticed he resembled a sort of urban vampire, and I packed up and left. It was almost closing time any way. I have no idea where I am going to work tomorrow, or rather today.