as days sometimes do, today had a turning point. pre-turning point, i scurried in to work, shook my head glumly at blogger which refused to publish, did a washington post crossword puzzle online, and ate cold pasta in the office kitchen at a table by myself. post-midpoint, i ventured into the conference room, where the staff were kicked back with roast chicken and jumbo shrimp, heckling a western on AMC.
leftist, the only other intern in today, was there, and shook a leg at me in greeting. we started talking movies while cheering for kirk douglas on his quest to bring his wife's rapist and murderer to justice. it was a slow day anyway so no one bothered us as we took the discussion upstairs. he pointed out netflix, to which i immediately succumbed, and we spent the subsequent hours agreeing with each other on films and making suggestions to each other.
from there, i went straight into the bosom of the charrow family. i shared shabbes with them and we watched wet hot american summer. all the jokes didn't quite fly, but on the whole it kept us laughing. hard.
Noir Literature as Protest Literature
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